


Waiting Around To Die

by Fantasticly_Anonymous



Series: Deadpool 2, But Different! [1]
Category: Deadpool (Movieverse), Deadpool - Fandom
Genre: #FirstKiss, Angst and Humor, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Basically The Whole Movie Retold From A ‘Different’ Wade Perspective, Cable is definitely a giant tease!, Deadpool Is Delusional, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, I add tags as i go, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, Implied/Referenced Suicide, It's Deadpool though. So nothing too serious for that last tag!, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Power Couple!, Protective Cable, Protective Wade Wilson, Romance, Several F-Bombs Are Dropped, The Gayness Hath Stricken For Realz, Time Travel, Yukio Is Amazing!, ’Family Home Movies’
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-05-18 14:51:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 18,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14854848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fantasticly_Anonymous/pseuds/Fantasticly_Anonymous
Summary: Oh come on. Wasn’t bad enough he wasfinallydying? Now some weirdo made at least one quarter out of indestructible metal had to invade his new digs (read: super mutant prison) and threaten to kill the baby faced, fire flinging pre-teen ‘the man’ had locked him up and thrown away the key with.The only saving grace of the whole messed up situation? At least the hyper violent Hobo With A Shotgun had the hots for him.





	1. Hobo With A Shotgun

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Just Admit It](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14785955) by [Daisy1600](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daisy1600/pseuds/Daisy1600). 



Wade Wilson didn’t actually _want_ to die; but he was sure as fuck _ready_ for it. 

Yep. This whole dying thing was taking **forever**. Especially since Wade was so good at fighting.

Didn’t help that his healing factor got turned back on a minute ago by an instinctively redirected round from that sweet as ass, giant rifle. Courtesy of the guy who was currently beating his face in with what may have been the rustiest pipe it had ever been Wade’s ultimate misfortune to have knock his front teeth out. (A hazard of the job that happened more often than he’d like to admit.)  
Though, since he was usually wearing the Deadpool mask when some hopped up whack job swung at him, he usually just swallowed them and pretended regrowing beautiful, perfect adult incisors didn’t hurt. 

And that he hadn’t just had them knocked out. 

In this case though, he let the crumbly remains of his pearly whites sit on his tongue, swimming in a quickly growing pool of mouth blood for the perfect moment to-  
Haha! Got him right in the eyes! Or, _eye_ anyway.  
Ooh, he loved the look on the weirdo’s face when the cyber guy wiped Wade’s Dentine Surprise(tm) out of his baby blue and saw chips of human teeth all over his burly, gloved hand. 

Unfortunately, it probably hurt Wade more than it did him when the salt-and-pepper dude —who at least still _had_ hair— straight up **Pitch** Slapped him to the ground with the gooey, sharp mess. 

Wade got the last laugh on that one though, he thought with an out-of-breath chortle; hoping the stupid, built as hell, pediatric-assassin liked cancer cells flooding his mucus membranes! It was moments _exactly_ like that Wade **almost** wished he had a little HIV to spread around.  
Sharing _was_ caring, after all. And whoever this bozo thought he was, looked like he could use a **lot** of caring in his life about then.  
Guy’d look a lot friendlier if he’d just smile more. And put down the big lead fist he was raising for more than just a love tap. 

Though that shining metal arm wasn’t pulling any of its punches, Wade was pretty sure the chiseled face attached to it, was —let’s be honest here— eye fucking him harder and harder as the fight went on. 

It was his ass, wasn’t it? The gaudy prison jumpsuit really brought out the bubbly shape he’d worked long and hard to perfect.  
_Had_ to be why this Cyborg wannabe-child-murderer couldn’t keep his hands off it. Or from kicking it. **Really** hard. 

“Working through some serious pent up sexual aggression there, huh buddy?” At the ‘what the fuck’ pause that got him, Wade regrew his last tooth and put it to good use in a lascivious smile. “You are **exactly** the guy I wouldn’t wanna run into on a late night ‘oops, I forgot to buy milk before fucking midnight and it sure as shit can’t wait till morning’ milk run.”  
At the further disturbed look that got him, the guy who’s floating ribs were getting the chance to stop floating _through_ his liver affected a thoughtful frown and went on. “Unless you had a fresh, self lubricating jimmy hat on you. And when I say fresh, I don’t mean the one you’ve been carrying around in your wallet since senior year of community college.” 

Wade switched back to the winning smile as the guy with a vendetta against _life itself_ made a weird snarly noise somewhere in his sinus area and started stalking toward him. “I mean the one you just bought in the mini mart before following little old me down the dingy alley I like to take to cut back home, because you saw me in the dairy isle, on that big bubbly security mirror they keep near the front, from where you’d been ogling the frozen foods and you wanted to see for yourself whether things were really, _considerably_ larger than they appear.” 

The last couple words were just a bit choked off as the Robotnik —who _might_ not have appreciated being accused of wanting to stalk and subsequently make sweet, sweet, dubiously consensual alley love to a law abiding, hot as shit, milk drinker— grabbed Wade by the throat and squeezed. **Hard**. 

“Yeah, buddy, great way to prove you’re _not_ into the kinky stuff,” Wade more lip-synced than said, which shouldn’t be surprising considering his windpipe and voice box had just been crushed by that rippling, unnaturally alluring, gunmetal grey death machine with a well formed bicep.  
Judging by the narrowing of both a shiny and a slightly still blood and tooth remnant covered eye, Mr. Frownypantz could read lips just fine. 

So instead of doing something to _deter_ Wade from his current line of inquiry, the bad boy with an obvious hard on for the guy with the obviously useless throat picked Wade _off the ground_ —mostly by the throat too— and shish-kebobbed him onto what had to be the **second** rustiest pipe Wade had ever hated saying a bloody ‘hello’ to. 

“Don’t try to tell me this _isn’t_ a sex thing for you, ‘cause I can always see the lies in my lovers eyes!” Wade said, thankful that his voice came back just as that frustrated set of _definitely_ -getting-pinkeye-from-all-that-blood eyes tore themselves away from his captivating, ruggedly handsome face.  
Doubly thankful when the last words at least got the super soldier to pause before up and leaving him there. Right where Mr. I’m Coming Back To _Come_ For You Later wanted him; tetanus laced pipe sticking alluringly over a foot through his solar plexus. 

Yeah, Wade thought as he sighed a nice death rattle to himself, he _had_ been figuring he’d end up dying in this shit hole within the next few weeks of the wonderful, terminal cancer he’d been gifted with. If not even sooner by the hospitality of his new prison buddies. And if neither of those things panned out soon enough for his liking, he could always go the way of the ancient samurai, who, when dishonored, would hang themselves from a fluorescent light fixture.  
If he could _just_ get his hands on some rope... Oh, but all the lights were too high to reach with a stupid rope. So maybe he’d have to fling himself off one of those extremely poorly thought out, very fling-yourself-offable staircases they had _everywhere_ , instead.  
It almost made him think whoever’d designed the place must’ve _wanted_ people to kill themselves by way of the highly tempting flinging staircases.  
Rude. 

But, alas: Wade had his stupid healing powers back and could hear the dulcet strains of his underage, practically prepubescent cellmate screaming in fright for his life. So he yanked himself off the BDSM skewer and went to once again confront his future, ‘accidental’ back alley, late night milk run, just forceful enough to be extremely torrid, encounter buddy about the dangers of denying yourself what it was in life that you _really_ want in life.  
Which, Wade was **pretty** sure, was his very own sweet, sweet, tight enough to bounce a Suzan B. Anthony dollar coin off of, ass.  
If not just a candlelit dinner somewhere private enough that Mr. Roboto could have his way with him _after_ some well done steaks and a half-bottle of eighty proof whiskey. 

_Man_ that homicidal, Full-on Metal Jacket guy had some weird fantasies. 

Wade couldn’t _wait_ for their star crossed reunion. 

“Wait for me, Gunnery Sergeant Hartman! You can yell at the new recruits all you want, but _don’t shoot the kid_!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there, denizens of earth. Hopefully.  
> I got challenged (by a friend, don’t worry) to write a one thousand word Deadpool/Cable fic and my brain churned this piece of work out around five anti meridian. So I figured I’d post it online and see how things worked out.  
> Hope everything’s quiet on the Eastern front! _And_ that everyone’s having a great weekend!
> 
> P.S.  
>  I could probably write a follow up if folks are interested! :D Feel free to let me know if you are!


	2. The Love Boat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next time Deadpool and Cable meet up doesn’t go a whole lot better than the first. Depending on who you ask, of course. ;D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta’d by the wonderful and talented Ondori_Naramaki. So any mistakes you might find are 100% their fault.  
> (Just kidding! I take full responsibility for my actions!)

Sometime after Wade’d pulled himself from the Frozen lake by the beautiful, mountainside Chateau De Mutant Scum, laying there moaning through the full body, why-can’t-I-be-dead-instead shivers, and before he’d grown back enough of his brain for super coordinated things like _walking_ , he had a little time for some hard thought. 

Wade realized that dying could wait until _after_ he saved the kid, and walked his new horizontal dance partner down the white line of the baseball diamond. Taking a leisurely stop at first base, rushing Heat Of The Moment like past second base, bothering with a little shortstop, then savoring —if not recording for extra, couples night savoring _later_ — their messy flip flopping back and forth between third base and home plate until the Ump called it an even game and sent them into _overtime_.  
Wow. Wade was out of breath just _thinking_ about it.  
He was gonna have to work on his cardio. 

So he ran all the way home —he _wished_ — and assembled a team who were _just_ powerful enough to help him save the kid, but _un_ powerful enough that his shiny new boy toy wouldn’t get himself broken opposing them.  
He’d never figured the team would all be dead by the time he and his Secret Santa finally met face to face again. 

All except good old Dom, who was doing an _excellent_ job of staying alive. Much better than Wade had done, considering he’d taken **many** lethal love taps through his and Digi Metal Greymon’s fight, and Dom had yet to take even one. 

“You go girl!” He couldn’t help yelling at the top of his lungs when his teammate got his ripped as shit, stalker/admirer in a painful looking, leg triangle air choke.  
Wade wasn’t even sure how that _worked_ , but it looked **so** cool that he didn’t even question the logic. 

“Good idea,” she said, flipping off and away from the mass of rippling, pissed as hell muscles. “I’ll go, and _you_ take care of Captain Hook here. Bye!”

“Love you too!” Wade called after his first officer, who was probably running not in fear of her life, but because she knew the two commandos in the back of the bus needed a little alone time.  
Together. 

As Dom disappeared for the cockpit, Wade couldn’t help but take a moment to admire her impeccable style.  
That outfit, that _confidence_ , that **swagger**. He’d always known Domino was her X-Force handle; not her real name. She obviously had some sort of awesome, super important, day job aside from just being lucky. Like puppet master of the local city council, or maybe CEO of the U.S. postal service. 

But enough about his last surviving teammate, he thought, looking the hotter than ever, incensed assassin up and down before squaring off across from him. Glad to have some time to themselves again. 

Okay, so their first encounter had ended with Wade losing a nice Chunk of his scull then nearly drowning _while_ freezing to ‘death’. All because the cyborg who definitely liked him for his body, couldn’t stop aiming his gun filled, trigger happy, human looking hand at the only kid in the whole damn prison. 

Here’s hoping encounter numero dos ended much more magically. Like, with Wade getting some metal someone’s number... tattooed across his chest in big, bright red, bullet point letters. 

Kinda felt like that’s what was going on right then. What with all the pistol —thank _God_ it was a pistol this time— rounds hitting him in what felt like numerical patterns all over his upper body.  
‘Course, that _could_ be on account of him having wanted to show off his bullet slicing skills and then remembering part ways through the demonstration that katana were generally a tad brittle and that blocking bullets with them was, overall, a poor idea. 

When the pistol clicked empty, Wade glanced down and huffed a disappointed huff when he couldn’t make out any numbers at all. Not a one.  
Fuck. 

So he’d just got himself shot to doll rags for _absolutely_ nothing as opposed to the _hope_ of something. Bad trade off if you asked him. 

“Look, sugar plumb, I love getting shot at in front of the open back door of a screaming metal death trap just as much as the next spandex clad antihero, but maybe we can find us a pen and paper and make this _much_ easier?”

“Make _what_ ‘easier’?” The metal head with the sour lemon smolder asked. Reloading his gun in an offhanded ‘Gun. What gun?’ kinda way.  
Super cute. 

“You giving me your digits.” At the taken aback shudder, Wade rolled his eyes and started over. “ _Pretty_ sure you were just trying to give me your number, sweet cakes. And I was trying to take it down, but I’m _pretty_ sure my katana got in the way and-“ 

The quick, surprise popping off of several **more** rounds nearly sent Wade tumbling out the back of the rumbling, bumbling, glorified paddy wagon. 

“Okay! So, starts with a six? Let me guess: the next one’s nine?” Wade asked as he scrambled somewhere their spicy foreplay wouldn’t get him a **super** case of road rash.  
Turns out there wasn’t much room for love making back there, so forget leaving room for Jesus, he thought as he realized he was now flush up against the guy who just _couldn’t_ keep his animal magnetism to himself. Growling right in Wade’s face like some sort of feral, **deep** -into-its-mating-season-and-still-hadn’t-found-another-bear-to-call-‘honey’, grizzly. 

The cyborg leaned in closer —like that was even _possible_ — and squinted right up into his mask covered eyes. “Fuck off, you red waxed piece of Swiss cheese.” As it was, Wade was pretty sure he could feel Mr. Happy’s mini me saying hi to his thigh. 

“You’re into cheese, huh? I’ll remember that for the candlelit dinner portion of our first da-“

Wade guessed that the enraged MMA aficionado didn’t want to hear spoilers about their upcoming romantic encounter. That **must** have been why the guy grabbed his hand —so forward of him— and twisted it violently past the point of two uncomfortably loud crack sounds. Then yanked until it popped out of socket. Right before kicking Wade away towards the back wall he must’ve forgotten was missing. 

Yep. If the two of them weren’t each on **very** opposite missions in the caboose of this speeding death trap, they’d be all over each other in a very... _different_ way.  
As it was, Wade twisted his arm the right way around again, gave the shoulder a few good whacks against some loser with a mohawk’s see-through cell door —just until the stubborn thing went back into joint— then launched himself at the bulging back muscles trying _real_ hard to yank open the kid’s un-openable, plexiglass prison. 

“Looking for someone?” Wade asked, both hands covering the cyborg’s eyes and yanking his head away from the cell so he’d stop giving the kid that special, murderous look he reserved for _him_. 

“Yeah. Not you, asshole.” Said Mr. Low Blood-Sugar as he groped around behind himself. No doubt trying to cop a feel of Wade’s mysterious, perfectly contoured ass.

“Uh, I think you meant to say, ‘Yeah. _Your_ assho-‘“

Maybe all that metal wasn’t flexible enough though, because the lewd hands settled for grabbing Wade around the head and neck instead. Then with a growl that had to have come from the depths of Hell itself, the bodybuilder with a trapezius of steel flipped Wade over his shoulders and made to body slam him onto the metal floor.  
Too bad he’d telegraphed the move, ‘cause now the cyborg was going down _on top of_ his new lover, thanks to Wade’s slick, tricksy hands, and his tenuous grasp of the laws of physics. 

All it took was leverage, baby, and now Wade had a sweet, heavy enough to break his ‘funny’ bone, passenger, wriggling **violently** around _all_ over him.  
It was bliss. 

“Hey, Dom, this train go any slower? I want this moment to last,” Wade called from the bottom of the pile of flailing, furious limbs. One of which accidentally broke a couple of his ribs with a well wound up, metal elbow drop. 

“Uh, I’ll see what I can do!” He heard from up front, as he wrapped his arms and legs around as much of his grouchy teddy bear as he could. Pulling the two of them flush against each other for a second, even more _exciting_ time. 

At what sounded like their driver bulldozing their armored police prison transfer bus through the ground level of a skyscraper, Wade sighed and freed up one hand to pat his lover lovingly on the head. Where he had the well coiffed, salt and pepper topped thing crushed face first into the trough between his own, extremely impressive pectorals.  
“Thanks, Dom. You’re making my dreams come true!” He informed the second luckiest person he knew while _the_ luckiest received an adorable stiletto to the kidney. 

He was _so_ keeping that knife. To remember their first, **very** soon to be, fu-

“Fuck you!” Wade _felt_ screamed into his Deadpool suit, all of a quarter second before a set of naughty teeth did their best at taking a chunk out of him.  
It surprised him hard enough that he forgot to dodge the incoming headbutt and ended up losing his full body, boa constrictor grip on his boy toy.  
The illegally hunky boy toy who stomped a boot heel down on his solar plexus the moment he got himself upright. Then stalked off to commit infanticide against Wade’s breathless wishes. 

“Where’s the fucking kid?!” Mr. Post-Mutual-Erotic-Wrestling Aggression screamed at the shockingly empty cell in the wall. Sounding just as incensed as ever, despite the good time they’d just been having. 

Then, with a ‘fist busting through several inches of steel’ sound, the ground exploded and the entire world turned upside down. 

Their ill fated second encounter _was_ ending with a bang. Just... not the kind Wade had been hoping for. 

“Aw, shit,” Wade mumbled to his suddenly weightless self as he realized he hadn’t even gotten the damn number he’d had his heart set on.  
Least he didn’t have long to regret it, seeing as how every single one of them was about to die in a magnificent, 38 car pile up, freeway crumbling, crash. 

He just hoped the promised fiery explosion at the end made the ten o’clock news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh ya’ll! The response to this has been so much more than I could have expected and I want to give a quick shoutout to everyone who read, kudos’d, subscribed, bookmarked, commented, or even breathed in its direction! Y’all gave me the kick in the pants I needed to continue the story and with any luck, there’ll be a few more chapters where these came from!  
> Hope y’all have a lovely weekend and that you stay tuned for more from the CablePool-verse!


	3. Highway To The Danger Zone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I always wondered what happened between the X-Force leaving the crash site and the team meeting back up at Blind Al’s pad.  
> Suffice it to say, I’m not wondering anymore. ;D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta’d by the wondrous Ondori_Naramaki. Once again, all mistakes are completely _their_ fault. ;D

“Dom! We gotta go back! What if he’s trapped under two tons of concrete LEGO freeway and running out of oxygen?!” Wade wailed as his bestest buddy in the entire planet walked farther and farther from the scene of the truly epic crash they’d both miraculously survived. 

“Well, guess he’ll die then,” Domino breezed over her shoulder at Wade, where she was carrying him like he was your average everyday red, blood oozing, hundred pound backpack. 

“No! Don’t _say_ such things! He’s strong; he’ll hold on for us!” Wade reprimanded. Shocked by his coworker’s shocking words.  
Granted—considering he’d just been ripped in half—there really wasn’t much he _could_ do if his Romeo _had_ been buried alive. He couldn’t lift with his back if only half his back was available, after all.  
Man, Juggernaut was a real _dick_. 

“That Fullmetal Alchemist lookin’ mother just got through trying to _kill_ you! _And_ the Fire Fist kid. You do not want to be pulling that kind of trouble out of solid concrete. Trust me on this one,” said the good sport who didn’t seem to mind that Wade’s big intestine kept slapping her achilles whenever she took a step. 

“I don’t think you understand the erotic nature of our death defying foreplay here, Dom. The guy is just _waiting_ for the right moment to stick his tongue so far down my throat I die of asphyxiation, just so he can give me mouth to mouth until my heart restarts,” Wade informed the last remaining member of his X-Force. May the departed Rest In Peace. If not in... pieces. 

“If that’s what you think is going on, then I don’t want to _know_ what you think Juggernaut meant by **this** ,” Domino said, hefting her fancy, half-a-costumed-human backpack to make her point clear. And painful. 

“Oh, that guy?” Wade scoffed. “He’s just miffed that I have a boyfriend and he _doesn’t_!”

“Mmhm. Like I said: didn’t want to know.” 

 

~

 

It wasn’t until after sweet, thoughtful Domino had literally dropped Wade’s upper half off on Blind Al’s doorstep, going so far as to ring the doorbell when he insisted he couldn’t reach it—even though he _totally_ could—that the icky bits of internal organs grew a new protective layer of human skin over them.  
Looked _much_ better than all those loose bits of vertebrae and big and small intestines and even part of his stomach hanging out of his thoracic cavity for the world to see.  
Wade was frankly impressed by Domino’s continued unflappability through the trudge home.

It really was too bad not even _one_ of the innumerable cabs they passed along the way would stop to pick them up. And all because Dom was covered in blood and he didn’t have any legs.  
Wade never would have guessed that such prejudice ran so deep in the veins of his fellow citizens.  
He at least hoped Dom could cause some positive citywide change with her sway over at her day job. Whatever high powered position it turned out she held. 

But Wade put the small minded citizenry out of his mind as he concentrated on _not_ worrying about the cyborg he knew could be suffocating to death as Althea dragged him inside her apartment. Giving up about where the sofa was and saying she’d be back in a sec. 

“Good thing you never came back for the last of your shit after I threatened to throw it out if you didn’t. Found a button shirt under a fat stack of National Geographics.”

“Yeah, those aren’t National Geographics, Al; they’re... let’s just say _adult_ porn.”

“What other kind of porn _is_ there?”

Hm, good point, Wade thought with a raise of his non-existent eyebrows, before going straight to answer Al’s other burning question.  
“And I knew that you’d never go through with the threat. Throwing all that ‘shit’ out would take _way_ too much effort, and besides, it reminds you of your favorite roomy,” Wade cooed as his ex-roomy helped him wiggle out of the upper half of his mangled Deadpool costume. 

“My dead cat?”

“No. _Me_!”

“Huh. I don’t recall ever saying I even _liked_ your annoying ass. I only let you live here ‘cause I was tight on funds,” she ended with a huff as the Deadpool outfit finally popped off Wade’s head. 

“You’ve got several things wrong there, but I’m not gonna stress because I know seeing me like this is hard for you. Because you’re blind. And because you hate to see me in so much pain.”

“Mm, nope. You got the wrong blind person. You in pain does _not_ brother me. Not one bit,” Al insisted as she helped Wade get his arms into the short sleeves of his slightly musty, ancient, it-was-one-dollar-at-the-thrift-store splurge purchase Hawaiian shirt. 

After Wade’d buttoned the shirt and helped Blind Al get him up on the sofa, grunting when it pulled at his sensitive, newly regrown skin, his favorite ex-roomy paused, hands on her hips as if deep in thought. 

“You want some ibuprofen, sweety?”

“Yes. A whole, family sized bottle, if you’ve got one lying around. That would be just... wonderful,” Wade said with a triumphant grin. 

“I got water boiling; your lazy ass want some hot cocoa too?”

“If it wouldn’t be a bother!” He called after her retreating, somehow not tripping over the _mess_ in there, form. 

“Marshmallows?”

“You know it! You’re the greatest, Al!”

“Fuck you, Wade!” He heard from over by the bathroom, where his unseeing-eye dog was fetching him a large bottle of crunchy, medicated bliss. 

“I love you too!”

 

~

 

“You know, Al?! I’m starting to think maybe my boyfriend’s still alive! They _still_ haven’t said anything about finding a Hunk’a Hunk’a Burnin’ Cyborg Love anywhere in the crash! Or the rubble! Or the surrounding-“

“Wade, I will _sew_ your mouth shut if you don’t **stop** the running commentary this instant!” Althea warned from the dubious comfort of her circa 1995 mattress. 

“I thought we agreed **_never_** to mention that again!” Wade shouted toward his ex-roomy’s bedroom. 

“...Sorry. But shut up and go to _sleep_!”

 

~

 

Though Wade had given Al his tacit agreement, Sleep didn’t happen that night. Not with the news coverage of the biggest, most awesome crash in _history_ going **all night** the way it did. 

Every time the lady or the man or the _dog_ —that was new—came on screen and told Wade specifically (by name) that all but two of the mutants were accounted for and that there appeared to be no other casualties, Wade shed a tear of gut-deep relief.  
His honey bunny wasn’t dead! Probably.

Well actually, nothing was being proven one way or the other, and by the time the sun started peeking at him through that one annoying slat on the blinds across the window that was just a little bit _missing_ , Wade realized all he’d accomplished was a night of absolutely zero sleep.  
And a whole heap of worrying. And he was pretty sure his urinary tract was finished stitching itself back together and that it was high time he thought about _not_ wanting to drag himself all the way to the bathroom to handle that problem. 

Good thing Al’d left him a handy dandy mug before he’d glued himself to the television for a marathon of watching nothing but mid quality local news coverage.  
“Ahhhh,” Wade sighed in relief before giggling at the thought that once again, in a rather roundabout way, his cup contained hot cocoa. Which, in turn, had him wondering whether it tasted the same the second time in his cup as it did the first.  
That thought was discarded quickly though when he gave the liquid a sniff which made his _soul’s_ nose crinkle. So he set it on the coffee table and got ready for the morning addition of doom and gloom in your ex-housemate’s living room.  
AKA: The caffeine edition of the local news. 

 

~

 

“Why does my living room smell like piss?”

“Uh, no reason.”

 

~

 

So, Blind Al didn’t like the piss in her second favorite mug thing, nor the fact that her deadbeat house’guest’ _still_ couldn’t walk, on account of his having baby legs and all, but she kept it cool and handed over another family sized bottle of ibuprofen for him to munch on while she made some chocolate chip pancakes. 

“I’m _pretty_ sure you grabbed the raisins, Al. Wrong shelf. Wrong _set_ of shelves, actually,” Wade said from his seat by the coffee table. 

“Right. Like you could see any of that from way over there,” Al scoffed at him as she poured a few of the tasty morsels into the frying pan. Hopefully not missing the ever so slightly **charred** pancake. Which Wade could smell just fine from ‘way over there’.

“I’m not blind, Al; I can see you forgetting to flip the pancake _and_ to put the eggs back in the fridge.”

“ _You_ wanna make breakfast?”

“Don’t mind me, Al. You’re an angel!” Wade backpedalled as sweetly as possible. 

 

~

 

“As much as I _love_ your famous charcoal and crouton pancakes-“

“- _Told_ you they weren’t raisins.”

“I _will_ vomit all over myself if you try to force another on me.”

“‘Force’ nothin’, jackass. It was you swallowed two without coming up for air, moaning and slurping all the syrup off your plate like you was Jesus at the last supper.”

“That was ketchup, Al. You poured _ketchup_ all over your Lovecraftian _dog’s_ breakfast and forced me—at gunpoint, might I remind—to ‘shut my trap and eat my damn breakfast’. That, and I needed to make it sound good. ‘Cause I’m not interested in regrowing my _shoulder_ before I even eat. That’s what you were aiming for, by the way,” Wade tacked on at the confused expression. “You’re welcome.”

“No, Wade. _You’re_ welcome.” 

Wade watched Al clear the dishes, then groped his way back onto the sofa from his eating off the coffee table spot on the floor, wishing all the while that regrowing half his skeleton wasn’t such a pain in the-  
Oh happy day! His ass was back! 

After that, what with the massive intake of calories—which he’d somehow forgotten **really** helped with this sort of thing—his baby legs were toddler legs in the blink of an eye! And people were flooding the living room and giving him funny faces and commenting on the pants he _didn’t_ own that he should be wearing.  
Life was complicated like that sometimes. 

But, when a big, familiar, square jaw revealed itself behind Wade’s gaggle of self-invited friends, his entire brain did one of the happiest happy dances in the history of interpretive dance.  
Pretty sure he almost got a concussion from how hard the party in his skull was going, he fought to keep a straight face and started off casual. “So, big guy. Hot stuff. What brings you around? Couldn’t keep away after our-“

“The name’s Cable, I don’t know what you’re talking about, and I’m from- Are you _crying_?” The look that accompanied the question was equal parts disturbed and _intrigued_.  
Wow. Guess for once, Wade thought with a sniffle, Cosmo actually got something _right_. 

“Mmhm,” Wade confirmed. Not bothering to wipe away the tears. “I’m just so happy you didn’t end up on the ten o’clock news.”

“Wade, _why_ are you happy about that?” Demanded Weasel who was holding a large pistol up and inexpertly pointing it at the cybor- at _Cable’s_ face. “This freak tried to torture me to death for information about how to get you to leave him alone! And what your favorite color was- But I didn’t tell him _anything_! ...Mostly because I don’t know any of that weird shit!”

“That’s because you’re not a very good friend, Weasel.” Dopinder informed in his sweet, thoughtful way. Earning himself a good glare from the only one holding a piece. With the safety engaged. 

“I only asked that question because,” Cable began, as he moved to ‘retrieve something from his utility bag’. 

“That’s a fucking _fanny pack_!” Shouted an enraged Weasel.

Ignoring the rude interruption, the cyborg finished his approach of the sofa and stopped right in front of Wade. Pulling a little tube from his ‘utility bag’ and popping it open before continuing.  
“You remind me of my wife.”

Wade’s eyes went wide. It was starting. He just _knew_ it. There wasn’t anything else it could possibly mean. ‘Cause when the hottest time traveling cyborg you’ve ever met takes the time to apply lipstick and pay you a compliment, all while maintaining steady, _heavy_ eye contact, you just **know** it’s time to take things to the next level. 

From exactly where he’d stood to put on his strange, clear, future lipstick, Cable cocked his head and cleared his throat. Bringing Wade’s attention back to him. Well enough to get _most_ of a story to go in one ear and half out the other.  
The guy’s lips were just so _distracting_ it was hard to hear all the words that came out of them, all slicked up the way they were. Ready and **primed** for something a little more fun than just... a long, _long_ flashback story.  
Which Wade caught _just_ enough of to insist they; under no circumstances, commit murdercide against a heretofore innocent child. 

“Fine. Deal.” Grouched the- _Cable_.

“So, it’s official? We’re partners for real now?” Wade asked. A snot bubble popping when he exhaled in disbelief. At which Cable stepped back with a grimace. 

“Yeah. Call it what you want. We’re helping each other out on this one. You help me get to the kid, and I give you thirty seconds to try and stop him from going dark side.”

“Sounds good to me, _partner_ ,” Wade said with far more jubilation than he’d had reason to feel in a _long_ , long time. 

 

~

 

Wow, Wade thought not so long later as he guzzled down every calorie Al had in her pantry, aside from Domino’s true though hurtful comment about his face, this had been the best team meeting in the history of X-Force team meetings. And the fact that they’d really only ever had one other of them didn’t detract one smidge from how ‘best’ it was, ‘cause Cable had said it loud and proud in front of the whole team: He and Wade were going steady!  
He needed to get them matching promise rings, he thought with an offhanded sigh as he licked the inside of a now empty peanut butter container ‘clean’. 

But, first things first, he decided, tossing the spotless jar into a handy dandy recycling receptacle. He could focus on jewelry later. _Now_ he needed to focus on eating Al out of house and home, ‘cause soon as he could get his adolescent legs grown out to ‘yoked young adult’ legs, he’d be ready and rarin’ to kick some metal-helmeted Juggernaut _ass_!

Alongside his ever so slightly smaller X-Force of Domino and... himself. ‘Cause everyone else was tragically, unavoidably dead.  
And his shiny new, hotter than a two dollar pistol, ripped as **shit** , _partner_ , of course. 

_Man_ this was gonna be one hell of a climax.


	4. Maximum Effort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The climactic Boss Battle rears its ugly head! How will our protagonists handle it?! When they can’t keep their eyes off each other!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, the wonderful Ondori_Naramaki put up with beta’ing my spelling mistake riddled fic! Woohoo! So if anything looks funky, it’s not my fault! (Just kidding, totally is!)

They had to stop off at Casa De La Virgin to see if Wade’s on-again off-again titanium boy toy wanted to pick up his hammer and sickle and join the whole ‘saving the future’ cause.  
Far as they could tell, the answer was a big fat ‘No. Have a nice time _dying_ because you don’t have any backup.’

That hurt Wade’s feelings, just a smidge, so he kept his mask on for the rest of the drive and hoped nobody noticed the occasional tear that soaked into the eye areas. 

“Wade, why the hell have you been sobbing for the last twelve and a half goddamn minutes?” Asked the sweet, oh so thoughtful Domino from her seat in the rear of Dopinder’s cab. 

“Mind your own ‘goddamn’ business; can’t you see I’m getting psyched up for our upcoming fight?!”

“By _crying_?”

“Yes, by crying! You should try it sometime, Dom. It’s a great stress reliever!”

“He’s right. It _does_ relieve stress.” The entire cab went silent at Cable’s... out of character, _agreeing_ with Wade, words.   
“What? The future’s not a happy place.” He said when even the driver turned to stare at him. 

 

~

 

“Alright team, and by ‘team’ I mean Domino, Cable, and _not_ Dopinder.” At the ultimately depressed look the best cab driver he’d ever had gave him, Wade moved closer and slung an encouraging arm around his tiny, thin, _perfect_ for driving long hours in a sedan, shoulders. “At least not for this part. You’re too precious for this sort of place.” Then Wade whispered into Dopinder’s ear, “It is _full_ of pedophiles.”

Wade knew his buddy got the point when his face blanched in disgusted horror.   
“My boyish good looks would make me a perfect target for their perverted pleasures.”

“Don’t worry about it, you have _so_ much to offer this world, Dopinder. I just don’t think it’s your fists of fury,” Wade reassured with a parting pat on the head. 

“Go get those sick bastards, team! I’ll be your backup if things get fucked sideways nine ways from Sunday!” 

“That’s the spirit!” Wade said with a double thumbs up as he walked backwards from his favorite cabby. 

“Why do you encourage him?” Asked the grouchy, cyborg hunk as Wade turned to face front. 

“Uh, I don’t know, Cable. Why do _you_ carry that dirty hobo bear around?” Wade parried with an under his mask smirk. 

“...Because it reminds me that there’s good in this world. It belonged to my daughter.”

“Your hobo daughter?” Wade asked. Confused when Cable pulled ahead of the group with a sexy, derisive snort. 

“ _Pretty_ sure that **burned** bear belonged to his... _dead_ daughter. Better luck next time, Wade,” Domino said, accompanied by an encouraging pat on the upper arm. 

Wade gave a sigh, aware that he needed to learn to read between the lines when sensitive things like dead family members, overdue library books, and sexually transmitted infections were being talked about. But, he thought with a confident puff to his chest, he’d never been able to take a hint and now that he was as accomplished and independently awesome as he was, he figured there wasn’t a huge need to put much effort into it.   
At least he could still read a room with the best of ‘em. 

Take Cable, for example: Wade’d probably said something to make the future guy want a little space, but that kind of thing happened just about **constantly** in any healthy, thriving, thirsty as _hell_ , erotically romantic relationship. Theirs was simply no exception. 

 

~ 

 

“I’m gonna shove the red guy _up_ the cyborg guy’s ass,” yell-stated the yoked ‘Man In The Iron Mask’ed Giant who was blocking team X-Force from intercepting the kid in his vendetta against the pedo-employing headmaster. 

“Ooh, mind if you did that the other way around there, Juggernaut, old pal? I’m not sure the ‘cyborg guy’s’ sphincter would ever be the same after little old me having a full body look-see up there, but _I_ , on the other ass, am **extremely** resilient.” Wade said the last word while making heavy, _pointed_ eye contact with the ‘metal guy’ in question. Who just stared right on back, face a mixture of grudging intrigue and just a tinge of confused horror. As if he didn’t know what to do with that information. 

Silly billy, Wade thought with a fond shake of his head. _This_ was the stage in a relationship when you started making plans for the future. Your shared bedroom experience future. 

Oh well. He’d walk Cable through it sometime when they weren’t literally about to be risking their lives fighting a ‘roided up pinball on a stick for the fate of the _entire_ future. 

 

~

 

Woah. Stuff looked weird when it was all wrong like that. Like, Wade was pretty sure he was part fence now, and that the cast iron pike sticking **all the way through his brain** was short circuiting some pretty important autonomic functions.   
Like his internal gyroscope, and his seeing and breathing and thinking organs. Like, _why_ did he _want_ to stand up, again? Didn’t make any sense! Laying on the green stuff all over the ground was way easier anyway. 

Though, he was pretty sure the green fuzzy stuff was yelling at him to ‘keep the fuck off’. But grass wasn’t _supposed_ to talk so he was gonna ignore that. 

Then, his stomach just about lost its shit as a 1958 Chevy Bel Air picked him up in its shiny, chrome fenders and pointed its headlights right in his eyes.   
Oh, right. Those were just humongous, Russian, slate grey peepers. Full of worry and regret and maybe just a hint of full blown, uncontrollable, relief at their long time in coming reunion. 

Wade’s hands may or may not have gotten away from his speared brain for a moment there, in the form of some lewd gang signs, because the Colossus easily holding his weight in his thirty inch biceps made an unimpressed face and shook his shiny metal head in wonder.   
Then, those gorgeous eyes ‘steeled’ themselves and Wade was shifted to being held in only one arm, Rock-a-bye Baby style. 

Wade _felt_ the iron rod through his head ring when an enormous, even-harder-metal hand closed around one end of it. He didn’t have a moment to figure out how to brace himself though before it was yanked free and clear and his brain felt the wind for the first time in _days_.   
His synapses, firing on all eight cylinders now that they could once again make their connections, made everything make sense again, so when Colossus set him down, he remembered why standing was a good thing and kept his feet. 

“You ‘ _came_ ’? For me?” Wade asked, both knowing his Russian savior wouldn’t get the joke _and_ feeling just a little choked up about the heartwarming turn of events. 

“Yes, Wade. I couldn’t abandon you when you most needed a friend’s help. Besides; a child’s life hangs in the balance,” Colossus said in that ultimately confident way he said everything. 

“More than _one_ child, C man. We gotta save the whole orphanage. _And_ , potentially, a whole bunch of future kids. You up for the challenge?” Wade got a metallic smirk for that. 

“It’s time to start fighting dirty.”

“That’s the spirit! Let’s go kick some spineless, pedophillic ass! Oh yeah, just so you know,” Wade began, causing Colossus to nearly trip over himself in a quick stop. “I, uh, I have a boyfriend now. He’s over there, fighting the Indestructible Blob. His name’s Cable.” Wade looked up into those baby silvers and swallowed thickly. “I hope you and I can still be friends?”

“Of _course_ , Wade! Some of my best friends are homosexuals! I am only happy you have finally moved on from your terrible, terrible loss.”

“Eh heh. Right. Moved on,” Wade said, decidedly _not_ going down that psychic mine field of a rabbit hole while they were in the middle of the boss fight of their lives. 

“Now, let’s help your boyfriend kick some major ass!” The Jolly Grey Giant said with a zealous fist pump. 

“Oh _yeah_!” Wade said with a fist pump of his own. 

 

~

 

“Go! I take care of Jugger _nut_ ; you power couple go save the boy!” Colossus said as he wrestled to keep the even bigger than him super powerful mutant from crushing anyone else. 

“Alright, you can do it C man! I believe in you!” Wade called as his X-Force turned tail and ran from the destruction they all knew was only just beginning. Domino splitting away to find a way to safely evacuate all the tiny mutants in imminent danger of frying in the sad, prison-like excuse for an orphanage. 

“What’s he mean by ‘power couple’?” Cable asked as the two of them made to cut through a super creepy playground full of antiquated play equipment. 

“Oh, just something you said earlier. To me. About us being _partners_ for the rest of our super exciting and **super** virile lives,” Wade breezed. Right before an _army_ of club wielding, 1980’s porn ‘stached, confirmed child abusers popped into existence.   
Damn you, cinematic bad guy hammer space. 

“You take the ones on the right, I take the ones on the left?” Cable suggested, pulling out his pistols. 

“Any chance I could borrow one of those?” Wade asked with an envious, masked eye. 

“...I think you’ll manage without.”

“Right. Guess I’ll use this brick then,” Wade said as he picked up a nice, completely child safe brick just laying in the middle of the playground.   
“Maximum effort,” he said under his breath, before diving brick first into any responsible parent’s worst nightmare. 

 

~

 

After the last of the ‘caretakers’ took lead or brick through the skull, Wade whooped and turned to Cable in triumphant excitement. “Aw, wow; we really do make a great team. Not just any committed, soon to be Mr. and Mr. could execute baddies in tandem the way we just did.”

“There’s the kid!” Cable said in a totally not ‘I’m obviously trying to avoid that subject’ way before shoving Wade sensually in that direction. Leaving a loving boot print like a tramp stamp right across his red suited ass.

Ooh, Wade new _exactly_ what they were doing after this. And it had more than one thing to do with his beautiful ass and Cable’s longstanding, pent up sexual frustration.   
Their honeymoon was gonna be _spicy_. 

 

~

 

“Watch out!” Wade shouted as he pulled Cable under a metal slide and held him tightly as long as the cyborg let him. Which just happened to be nearly a whole, sensual, _telling_ , .2 seconds longer than it took the fire and brimstone to dissipate from **all around them**. 

“You sure you can still stop this kid from going dark side? He’s trying to roast us,” Cable said with just a hint of fear for his life peeking through his unflappable poker face. 

“We’re still alive, aren’t we? Besides, we can’t give up on him! He’s got goodness in his heart, and if there’s good in a heart, there’s _always_ hope!“

“I’ll fuckin’ **kill** you _and_ your cyborg boyfriend if you try to get in my way again, Wade! You can’t stop me!”

Cable gave Wade an _artfully_ ‘told you so’ face and re-raised his remaining pistol. 

“No, I still have thirty seconds. Let me have them.” Wade met Cable’s disapproving gaze with equal, erotic intensity. “I can _do_ this. The kid deserves to live.”

“Thirty seconds. I’ll give you that, but I’m not letting him kill _any_ one.”

“That’s all I ask. Thanks for believing in me, sweet-“

“Clock’s ticking.”

“I’m going, I’m going!” Said Wade before stepping out into the open with his hands up.   
Unaware that he was about to make the ultimate sacrifice play.   
And that his Heavy Metal boyfriend was about to help him finally get what it was he’d on-again off-again been after this whole time: a smoothie and just a pinch of instant death.

Though, the heart lovingly filled with lead would do for now.


	5. Luckiest Man Alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uh-oh. We've reached the sad part of the movie. How's this gonna play out for our star-crossed lovers? Any different than it did in the movie? Guess only Wade and Cable can answer that question, so I'll let them take it away!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty, I supposed by now y'all know where to send the hate mail over any and all misspellings, right? Just in case, I'll refresh you're memories:  
> Beta'd by the fabulous Ondori_Naramaki!  
> (Hee hee, just kidding about the hate mail!)

Wade Wilson had to be the luckiest man alive. Aside from the fact that the love of his life was super duper, tragically and heart-rendingly dead.  
Yeah. Aside from that little... detail. 

Wade shook his head and got his mind train back on track. He _was_ after all, the luckiest man on the entire crust of the planet we call earth. The fact that he was just Waiting Around To Die yet again notwithstanding. 

What made him so lucky? How ‘bout the fact that he’d _found_ a love of his life to **begin** with? Huh? Pretty out there if you ask... _every_ love columnist **ever**.  
Plus, there were _two_ hot, metal meatheads vying for his affections now. Now that he’d made the ultimate sacrifice play and proverbially bitten the dust.  
Just about. 

He could hear them cat fighting even as his body started leaving his soul. Or, was that the other way around? Eh, he didn’t really care, so long as the two hot babes were fighting over him while he went. 

“We cannot. It is his decision, Cable, and he has made it. He is _happy_ to die.” The strains of strained, Russian tinted English assaulted Wade’s senses as he lay bleeding and dying in a pile of rubble. A tiny, non-adult hand completely platonically petting his slightly less handsome with all this ash, blood, and probably a little human feces all over it, head.  
Those glorified pedophiles had definitely been pants browners, and you never knew where all that crap was gonna fling when it hit the proverbial fan.  
Onto his face _obviously_ , but where else? If he weren’t dying, he’d definitely be checking the bottom of his shoes before stepping on any indoor carpeting. 

“You dipshit. Haven’t you noticed that he’s been suicidal since before I even showed up? He’s not in his right mind.” The Cyborg’s intense, hateful, Wade wanted to hazard... _protective_ , growl made his belly feel all warm and full of blood and- Oh. Naw. It was just full of blood. And not all his either. Gross. 

But that feral, ‘I **will** eviscerate your commi ass’ growl was a pretty good last thing to hear, so Wade was calling it quits and heading off to dead world right abooouuut-

“Wade, you’re my friend and I can’t let you just throw your life away for me.” Annoyed beyond reason at the plaintive statement, the guy with a heart quickly contracting lead poisoning as _well_ as a morbid case of arrhythmia looked up into the eyes of the annoying New Zealander he’d just made the Heroic Sacrifice Play(c) for. 

“Kid, _seriously_ , I’m not up for playing another round of ‘ **stop** trying to ‘help’ me’,” Wade informed. Using his absolute last microscopic drop of strength to paw a desperately inquisitive young hand away from the collar that was finally giving him what he wanted.  
“Let an insanely awesome vigilante contract killer die in peace for once in your godda-“

“The commi’s dead-ass wrong and the kid’s got more sense than the two of you _combined_ ,” said a salty Cable as he stepped up beside Wade’s injured —well, _more_ injured, anyway— side. “We lose people. That’s life. Doesn’t mean we should give up on it.”

Wade eyed the taciturn tanker taking a stab at ‘motivational’, refusing to meet the glowing eye when Mr. _Now_ Life Is Sacred crouched by his shoulder.  
Figuring the cyborg was _absolutely_ using his psychic robot eye powers to read the entire internet at once so it would tell him how to remove the future bullet from Wade’s **heart atrium** then tourniquet... _something_ to stop him from bleeding to death before the cancer finished killing his brain, Wade groaned in fond, super strong annoyance.  
“ _Seriously_? Now that I’m finally getting what I want, you want me to **not** die?”

“Yes.”

Wade used his _actually_ , really-this-time-he-sweared, absolute last drop of strength to slap away the gently approaching robo-hand. Squinting harder when his rejection made Cable’s irresistible lips quirk up for half a millisecond. On just one side.  
**Super** cute. 

“I’m gonna disengage the collar. So you can spit out that bullet and go back to being the most annoying human on the face of this godforsaken planet. Deal?”

“No! That is _exactly_ opposite of the ‘deal’!” Wade quiet-yelled, unable to avoid hacking up part of a lung anyway. Which he swallowed to preserve his dignity, even in his time of dying. 

“Uh-huh.” At the **intimately** obstinate face Cable made at him, Wade made an even stubborner one back. 

“There’s no _way_ you could get this collar off without killing me in the process and even if you **could** ,” Wade paused to choke on a little death blood, “I wouldn’t _let_ you. So there.”  
Boom. End of discussion.

Wade smiled when the exasperated growl finally made an appearance.  
“You **can’t** stop me and I _can_ disengage the mutation suppression collar. I’ve got a fucking techno-organic _arm_!” The Metal Militia man softly yelled in Wade’s slowly blanching face. 

“Don’t forget the glowey eye,” Wade reminded. Right before coughing a little blood **all** over the poor kid- _Russell’s_ track suit.  
Unibomber wasn’t a good look for him anyway, Wade thought with a little ‘imminent death approaching’ shudder. 

“Wade?” Cable asked. No hint of a yell that time. 

“Hm?” 

“I’m gonna save your goddamn life. Any objections?” 

“I _will_ bite my tongue off,” Wade threatened. Expression ‘dead’ serious. 

“No you won’t.”

“Don’t try me, big boy. I have sharp teeth and I know _exactly_ how to use the-“ Wade couldn’t _quite_ finish the sentence when a suddenly ungloved, excitingly calloused hand shoved its way in his mouth. 

“Yeah? Well either put those babies to work or shut the hell up and let me do my goddamn job.”

“What _is_ your ‘goddamn job’?” Wade heard the- _Russell_ ask from still right next to him. Even though he’d geysered cancer blood all over the kid’s new, extremely incriminating outfit. 

“Making it _really_ hard to breath,” Wade garbled through a giant wad of human flesh jamming up his talking bits. “It’s like having a long, hard, c-“

“I’m in.” Huh. Sounded like Cable could understand ‘talking with a fun time disco stick in your mouth’, and didn’t want the guy he was giving an unsolicited _mouth_ job to thoughtlessly scarring young Russell’s mind.  
In case the kid could understand too. 

“That doesn’t make it sound any better. In fact: it’s _way_ worse,” Wade garbled back at him. Then decided he should probably see whether he could do like Zeitgeist and scrounge up a little acid vomit. Just to deter Cable from shoving that massive... _hand_ any further down his windpipe. 

“Alright. You can bite your tongue off now, Hilary Swank.” Wade looked at the silver fox yanking his organic hand free of _his_ warm, moist, **completely** satisfied orifice and nearly crowed in excitement.  
_Finally_ he could die in piece. 

“You’ve seen Million Dollar Baby?” Wade asked with shock. Part at the thought of Cable having _watched_ any sort of ‘entertainment’ in his entire Ironman workout routine of a life, and partly at the intense pain that came with separating half his tongue from the rest of itself. 

“Of course. It’s a classic.” Then the guy with only one human looking eye smirked at the trickle of triumphant blood dribbling out of the dying guy’s face. “And I got the collar off.”

“Oh. Well fuck me,” Wade almost-intelligibly lamented. Choking a little on the fresh gush of blood headed straight for his already bloody stomach. 

“It’ll grow back.” Cable said with an oozing sort of confidence and, if Wade was being perfectly honest, he really wasn’t liking that smug look on the cyborg senior’s chiseled face.  
He was **loving** it. So he was gonna make sure it _stayed_ there. 

“Fuck you, Clint Eastwood.”

“Well, obviously, _someone_ hasn’t seen the end of the movie,” Cable deadpanned. 

“You caught me. It was just so **sad**. I went to the bathroom to ugly cry for a few minutes and came back just in time to miss everything but the credits.”

“Pussy.”

“Yeah, well at least I’m not a total, inconsiderate _dick_ ,” Wade accused. Holding in a groan as his stupid tongue sprouted a new tasting platform. 

“Inconsiderate?” Cable asked. Still just crouched there with that smug look on his rugged face. “For saving your drug-riddled life?”

“Uh, _yeah_. Without **asking** first!” Wade said. Right before shooting up into a seated position. Knocking Russell in the chin with his shoulder on the way.  
“Ooh, sorry! Didn’t see your head there.”

“You’re a shit liar, Wade,” the kid giving his ouchy chin a rub said with a far less murderous squint than might’ve been warranted. 

“Eh,” Wade said. Distracted by watching the bullet lodged in his squishy, human-ish heart back its way out his regenerating chest. Hitting his thigh with a little ‘pip’ before rolling lopsidedly off into the ashy dirt. 

“There,” Cable said, catching Wade’s attention. “Better?”

“Well, I still wanna die but-“ Wade made a spluttering noise when he had to pause for a moment to hoark up exactly one half shit-ton of crimson life juice. “Oops.” He said when he realized _who_ he’d just vomited blood all over. “Uh, sorry. But, uh, yeah, death still sounds pretty nice around now.”

“He’s gonna be fine,” Cable said as he finally stood up to move back and fall in line with the semicircle of well wishers who may or may not have preferred to be grievers. Not even _trying_ to squeegee the disgusting red soup off his first place at the wet t-shirt contest chest. 

“Nope. Gonna go home and kill myself for **good** this time. I think I got it all planned out too. Yes, every last tiny, insignificant detail is clear to me now.” He looked each of his friends in the eye for a moment. “I even know which song’s gonna be playing in the background, and it’s going to be a **sad** one and I’m getting Adam Lambert to belt it out, specially for my suicidal ears only.” Then he pointed at Cable. “ _You’re_ not invited!”

“Oh, I’m _definitely_ invited.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha! A _little_ different, huh? Anyone have feelings concerning the way this went as opposed to the original scene? If so, Wade'd _love_ to hear about it! ;D


	6. Just An Old Fashioned Love Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay y’all, this is where things go post movie slash alternate ending slash canon divergent for realsies. In a roundabout way we’ll still be following the movie, but a lot of this will be a little _missing_ from the feature film itself. Heehee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hint: I hope you’re ready for just how gay things are gonnna get up in here. ‘Cause Wade sure as hell is!
> 
> Also:  
> Once again, spelling and grammar botched by the well intentioned Ondori_Naramaki! (Heeheehee!)

“Not that I’ve forgiven you for saving my life,” Wade started from where he was sandwiched between two people who didn’t want him throwing himself out the ever-so-slightly-speeding cab, “but, uh... when are you planning on going back to your no longer dead future family?” He asked with trepidation. 

“We’re divorced.”

“Come again?” Wade asked, thoroughly confused. 

“My wife and I divorced a few years ago. We’re still friends. I was coming to visit my daughter when Fire Fist... got there first.”

“Oh.” Wade tapped his fingers rhythmically against his own lap for a moment. Not sure what kind of sensitive thing he was supposed to say to that.  
“So, when’re you planning to go back?” 

Domino on his other side sighed a big, disappointed sigh and elbowed him in the ribs.  
Cable for his part _chuckled_. Out loud. 

“I’m thinking of sticking around. Making sure your annoying ass doesn’t kill itself.”  
Wow. 

“You know, Cable? That was the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.” 

“Nope. I called you an annoying ass,” the cyborg insisted. 

“Mm, Nope. You said my ass was annoying. _And_ that you’d stay in this shit-hole of a time period just so I couldn’t get my hands on another of those mutie-stoppy collars and off my-“

An unyielding, organic, meat hook of a hand grabbed Wade by the chin cleft and pulled so his neck cricked. Then his whole body went ridged as he realized Cable hadn’t just lain into him with some sort of wicked, weaponized left jab, but a pair of well moisturized, supple, _caring_ lips. 

When the contact ended, Wade’s eyes fluttered open, revealing the half robot half human set staring right back into his. A hint of question in their murky depths. 

“What? No tongue?” Wade asked with a breathless huff. 

“Shut up and kiss me like you mean it,” ordered —and Wade could get used to that— the man who already had his chin in a love-lock. Made it _real_ easy to reseal their lips in a building, sloppy, hot as **hell** -

“Seriously, you two? I’m _right_ here.” Domino complained.

“Yeah, and _I_ can see **way** too much from up here, and I’m not even _trying_ to,” Russell informed from his ‘called’ shotgun seat. 

“I think it’s _beautiful_ , Mr. Pool.” Sniffled Dopinder from the driver’s seat. Eye’s just a bit moist. “You and your terrifying beefcake are welcome to suck face in the back of my cab anytime.”

“Aw, first you commit **brutal** vehicular manslaughter in my name, now you invite our love into your cab? Dopinder, you truly have a courageous, accepting heart.”

“It’s only the way that you’ve taught me, Mr. Pool,” the cab driver with the heart of gold said with a self deprecating smile. 

“Well, you’ve learned well my friend. You’ve learned well. And now, if everyone will excuse us, Cable and I have some unfinished-“

“Not a chance; not while I’m in the back seat _with_ you,” demanded Domino. 

“You’re adults. It can wait till you _get a room_!” Came the relatively high-pitched cliché from shotgun. 

“Wow, it’s two against three up in this hate mobile. Well _I_ say majority rules, so why don’t the nay sayers close their eyes-“

“And _ears_ , Wade? How’s that anywhere **near** fair?!” Half-shrieked the kid in the front seat that probably didn’t have an airbag. 

“Hey, _you’re_ only still alive because of-“

That same, _satisfyingly_ possessive hand from before cut Wade off yet again, only this time it was to turn his head oh-so gently away from the Kiwi with an attitude and run a thumb over his lips. Barely even touching them.  
Then the irresistible cyborg, who’d proven he’d moved on from trying to kill him when he’d gone ahead and saved his life, tilted his own head and kissed away the tingle his calloused digit had left behind. 

Wade couldn’t help but shudder at the experience.

“Leave the kid alone,” said the sensual sensation who’d just turned Wade’s legs to jelly. 

“Save my energy for _later_? Only ‘cause you asked so nice,” Wade cooed, leaning his lucky-to-be-alive head under the protective arm of _his_ ripped as **fuck** , frankly _disturbingly_ sensitive, shiny new cuddle buddy. 

Wade chuckled as he nuzzled his head against a rock hard, human pectoral, thinking to himself that if the two of them were _extremely_ lucky; he’d even stop ‘wanting to die’ sometime soon.  
He sure hoped so. ‘Cause he was really, _really_ liking the way things were going and he **really** wanted to _want_ to be around to see where they went. 

For Dopinder and Domino and Russell and NegaSonic and her adorable girlfriend Yukio and _especially_ for Cable: he was gonna put in maximum effort and keep living and getting paid to kick bad guy ass. Even if it killed him. 

Though, he hoped it didn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, were ya ready?


	7. Miracle On 34th Street

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay. So Wade heard there were a few readers out there who were a bit _completely_ ready and others who were completely **not** ready for the beautiful expression of unbridled passion and unyielding sexual tension in that last chapter.  
>  He’d like you to know that this one’s... eh, just a teeny bit similar. He hopes by the end that you’re comfortably whelmed. Not ‘over’ and not ‘under’, but just good old fashioned whelmed. He’d like to hear about it if you are. ;D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot stress just how very much Ondori_Naramaki has done as beta on this story. Some of it even _good_! (Told you the spelling mistakes aren’t my fault. Hahaha!)  
>  Seriously though, let’s give Ondo a big round of applause for continuing to put up with my ridiculousness! Hip, hip, hooray!

Wade fell asleep in the cab, snuggled up —more like _plastered_ — against his rough and tumble around the edges cyborg.  
Funny thing is: that’s also how he woke up. But not in the rear seat of Dopinder’s cab.

No, aside from the fact that he was living out the G rated version of his fantasies, fully clothed and comfy, Wade’s waking world was straight out of a sauerkraut and extra garlic late-night-hoagie induced nightmare.  
He was somewhere deep in the bowels of the fabled Casa De La Virgin: where no one got laid and a fairly chaste second base was as far as even the teachers were expected to get.  
Fuck. 

“Dopinder said you don’t have a place to stay,” Cable started. Not stopping the gentle one-shoulder massage that might have been what had woken Wade to begin with. “Then we got a call from that Russian, metal jarhead from earlier who said the same thing then invited us to stay at Professor Xavier’s mansion.”

“Uh-huh,” Wade started, raising one hand to wipe some sleep from his eyes. “And why are we in some creepy, 1850’s style den, cuddling on a _settee_ , of all things?”

“They’re getting a bedroom ready.”

“Oh. Wait, ‘ _a_ ’ bedroom?” Wade asked, making his first move to move since he’d woken. Blood pumping harder when he met **firm** resistance in the form of a bodybuilder’s bulging arm and realized Cable wasn’t about to let him. 

“Yeah. The metal guy thinks we’re ‘betrothed’ or some other antiquated BS.”

“Woah! Language, man. These halls have never heard a swear since the first building contractor missed the nail with the hammer. And he fell off his ladder for it.”

“This place is _literally_ crawling with kids. I didn’t- _don’t_ swear around my daughter. Why start around someone else’s?”

“Oh my gosh, you’re a big old softy,” Wade accused with a smirk. 

“Yeah? What ya gonna do about it?” Cable challenged, with a little good natured growl for effect. 

“I could... make you _less_ soft,” Wade suggested. One hand worth of his famed ‘magic fingers’ wiggling themselves for emphasis. Then sliding _up_ from Cable’s knee when he didn’t seem to get the wordplay. Slipping between the slightly spread legs and coming to rest on an already hard as steel... hand? What the fu-

“Someone’s bringing us food. Wouldn’t want the poor soul walking in on something like that.” 

“Oh, boo! Ever since you lethally shot me in the heart, you’re no fun,” Wade said, crossing his arms best he could from his snuggle position. 

“...I’m sorry about that.” Wade heard whispered in a voice that _sounded_ like Cable’s, but was decidedly different. Softer somehow. 

Wade glanced up and confirmed that it had, in fact, been the grouch of the century who’d apologized.  
“Well, your future family’s alive again. I’d say that’s worth a bullet to the heart.”

“ _My_ heart, maybe,” Cable said with a frown. 

“Eh! _Wrong_! **I’m** the one with the healing mutation so _I’m_ the one who takes the ‘save the kid; save the world’ shots to the heart, alright?” Wade reasoned. 

“No. You shouldn’t _have_ to. You were right: Russell _is_ a good kid. Just a little-“

“Tubby? You were gonna, weren’t you? You were gonna say tu-“

“-rough around the edges.” Cable managed to finish, pretending he hadn’t just been rudely interrupted.

Before Wade could say any more, the sorta-almost closed den door swooshed open and in came a whole fancy-restaurant serving trolly, **covered** in a generous spread of dinner looking foods.  
When it came to rest right in front of the settee, Wade remembered that ‘manners’ were a thing and made to thank whoever’d... _not_ pushed it in.  
What in the hell kind of poltergeist trick was some energy drink hopped up eighth grader trying to pull?

“Hm. Telekinesis. Nice touch.”

“Huh?”

“Kitchen staff must’ve sent it by mind power,” Cable explained. 

“Well that doesn’t sound like a ginormous waste of a decent superpower,” Wade lamented. 

“No glory in it, but it _is_ an efficient way to run things,” Cable said, looking ever so slightly envious as he scrutinized the cart. 

“Uh-huh. So who’s joining us?” Wade asked. Partly out of curiosity and partly to get T-800’s attention back on _him_. 

“Huh?”

“The family dinner? When are the kids coming to join us?” Wade asked. 

“Never. It’s just for us.”

It was Wade’s turn to make a confused noise. 

“The blue doctor guy, Hank, mentioned you still had a little arrhythmia going on. Said some high quality fuel’d have you up and bouncing off the walls again in no time,” Cable said, loosening his hold on his snuggle buddy enough that Wade figured he could now reach the tantalizing smorgasbord before them. 

“Huh. Sounds like this ‘Hank’ guy knows a thing or two about regenerative powers,” Wade said as he snatched an alluring, brown brick off one end of the cart’s impressive spread. Then proceeded to unhinge his jaw to take an inhumanly large bite of what he’d found on what must have been the dessert portion of the cart top. 

“Mmhm, in fact, he mentioned he’d be willing to help you through the ins and outs if you were interes-“

“Wait a goddamn second!” Wade demanded through his colosal mouthful of half chewed brownie. “You mean to tell me you met _Beast_! What the fuck, man! Why didn’t anyone wake me up? I’ve wanted to meet that hairy louse since day one! Ah! Why’s everyone hiding every time I come around!” Wade slouched back against the cushions defeatedly, chin tucked against his chest in a full body pout.  
Until he noticed the small chunks of brownie crumbled all over the front of his kinda burnt-to-hell Deadpool suit. 

“He tried. You were basically in a coma. Turns out, being nearly fried alive and throwing yourself around like a target practice dummy isn’t good for you,” Cable said. Just a hint of heavy reproach making his voice... _husky_. 

Wade finished off the crumbs before slouching forward and shoving the considerably larger remainder of the brownie in his pie hole.  
“And this stuff _is_?”

Cable’s answering grimace and gesture at the salad bar was answer enough. 

Hm. Come to think of it, Wade _was_ feeling more awake now that he’d swallowed an entire, four person serving of brownie. So he shrugged and popped a fist full of salad into his mouth. Enjoying the crunch if not the flavor. And double enjoying the approving hum from the guy starting to dole out two bowls of tomato soup. Just for them. 

 

~

 

“You ate yourself into a food coma.” First words Wade heard when he woke up on a king size bed he didn’t recognize in clothes he unfortunately _did_.

“Colossal Jerk dress me again?” Wade huffed, rubbing at his face and finding that he felt better rested than he had in **weeks**. 

“No. He gave me the clothes. ‘Cause now, for some godforsaken reason, he thinks we’re _married_ and that changing you like some sort of doll is _my_ responsibility.”

Wade turned his head in the direction of the agitated commentary and was glad his ticker was fully healed. Otherwise he’d’a had a heart attack right then and there and he was pretty sure they didn’t have any easy access crash carts in the dorm wing of the X-Manor. 

Standing _probably_ unabashed in the door frame of what appeared to be a lavish bathroom, a fairly modest towel cinched around his waist, was Cable in his one hundred percent undressed, only partly dried off glory. Backlit by the warm, golden light of an array of energy inefficient incandescent bulbs, which threw every bulge and crevice of his otherworldly form into beautiful, Renaissance style relief.  
The sight was practically religious. 

“What? Never seen a techno-organic infection before?” Cable said, turning to the side to grab the pile of clothes he’d no doubt ‘forgotten’ out in the main room. 

“Uh, I’ve seen your _arm_ plenty, if that’s what you’re asking. And that glowey thing your eye does. But I’ve never seen _any_ thing like the entire package. It’s kind of... **intimidating** ,” Wade said with a shiver he didn’t bother hiding. Cable wasn’t even facing him anyway. 

“Good.” Came the simple response as the physique that looked like it was chiseled straight out of stone moved back into the bathroom. Leaving the door just an artful ‘gotta let the steam out _some_ how’ crack ajar.  
The perfect amount open so that the cyborg’s roomy had tacit ‘permission’ to stare through it blithely and pray the dry eyes paid off eventu-

Bingo. Wade’s eyes widened when he was _pretty_ sure one, perfectly tanned ass cheek came into his tiny window of opportunity.  
Yep. _Definitely_ an ass cheek, Wade thought as he watched the marvelous, alluring, only-place-on-his-entire-body-that-the-guy-had-a-single-ounce-of-necessary-to-stay-alive fat, buttock shimmy it’s way into a pair of pants. 

What a tease. 

 

~

 

The curse of Casa De La Virgin kept the two of them from consummating their union for _hours_. What with it being lunch time, or some other, ‘necessary’ meal time. Followed by Cable being pulled off for some sort of powwow with the ‘adults’ who ran this place from the fucking shadows.

Uuuhhhhhgg, Wade grumbled in his mind, as he laid on a random coffee table in someone who _wasn’t **there’s**_ creepily opulent study. On the one hand, he was happy Cable was off, probably palling around and making friends for life —which the guy could _absolutely_ use— with the teachers Wade never seemed to see hide nor blue hair of, but, on the other hand... he was lonely. Even though he _knew_ that wasn’t fair. 

Wade knew he couldn’t demand Cable and he spend every waking moment together, nor did he _want_ to try and control his practically-husband’s life, but he _wished_ something along those lines were both possible and morally ethical. 

If only. 

Turned out: it was a piece of cake to keep his mind off how... ‘down’ he still was over Ness’s untimely, violent demise when his new sweetheart was there to kiss the hurt away —or intensely **stare** it away— but it was a whole other story when he was left on his lonesome, in this fucking _giant_ , ‘Harry Potter And The Sexless Romance’ excuse for a boarding school.  
Made him remember where exactly Ness was, why she was there instead of here, and who’s fault it really was that she’d... 

Wade felt a tear roll down from one eye as he closed them in a dramatic rush of emotions and memories and psychic _pain_ that was never going to end because Ness was **gone** and he didn’t know what-

“What the hell are you doing?” Asked a familiar voice from the door no one had bothered shutting all day. 

“Relieving stress?” Wade managed to scramble together as he sat up and sniffled hard enough to not let the impending snot fest show in front of his boyfriend. 

“You’re doing it wrong then,” Cable said with a blunt edge as he stepped into the room. “Your little attempt at ‘stress relief’ set off some sort of warning bell in Dr. Grey’s psychic ‘suicide prevention hotline’. So, meeting over; she sent me to check on you.”

By the way Cable’s nostrils were ever so slightly flared, coupled with that unbelievably flattering, subtle sheen of sweat across his currently lined-in-concern forehead, Wade was pretty sure the meeting hadn’t ended early. No, his Honey Bunches Of Oats had gotten up and _ran_ out of there when the doc had reported on the creepy mind stalking fetish-  
“Wait a fucking second! You met Dr. _Jean_ Grey? She’s here? At the academy?!”

“Yeah. We just had a lengthy conversation about depression and the pros and cons of actively mourning the loss of loved-“

“Hold the fucking phone,” Wade pleaded, standing to bring himself level with the luckiest-as-shit out of the two of them. “Just how many of the X-Peeps have you _met_?”

“...All of them,” Cable said. Reluctantly. 

“Oh, God, I knew it,” Wade said, flopping backwards back down onto the coffee table hard enough to break its flimsy little, claw footed legs. “They hate me.”

“I’d hate you too if you went around breaking all my expensive, antique, irreplaceable shit,” Cable pointed out. Checking behind himself to be sure there weren’t any children around to overhear his ‘naughty swear word’.

“No you wouldn’t; you can’t get enough of me. But for some mysterious reason, I’ve never seen even **one** of those yellow-leathered-up mother f-“

“They’re worried about you.” 

“Come again?”

Cable walked over to the coffee table’s non-broken, loveseat counterpart and sat down. Lounging luxuriously against the cushioned backboard and stretching his legs out so his boots rested on Wade’s stomach. Using him as a footrest.  
Kinky. 

“They’re worried about you. Have been for a while. S’why they sent the Colossal Pain In The Ass to get you. But, your apartment was already ‘gone’ by then?” Cable asked in a very unsure tone. 

“Yeah. It was a low point. And it didn’t work. So here we are,” Wade explained in as few of the worrying words as possible. 

“That’s what it sounded like,” Cable mused, shifting his boots around on his human ottoman. Unknowingly massaging some of the apprehension from Wade’s tight tummy. 

“I had no idea I was so popular.”

“Ha, that’s _one_ way to put it,” Cable said. With **one** chuckle. 

“Haha, very funny,” Wade said in a derisive, sing-song. 

After a rather weighty pause, Cable shifted his feet again and took in a breath. “...I’m gonna be going on missions with them.”

“Oh?” Asked Wade, feeling his abs retighten below his second-ever fiancé’s feet. Partly at the way they were making them tickle and partly at the feeling of crushing defeat ballooning below his muscle wall at the thought of this whole... ‘being alone’ thing becoming normal. Again. 

“They could use a little techno-organic muscle on the team. Every now and then.”

“Oh,” said Wade, trying to focus on the positive of the situation —the X-Folks realizing what a ‘hot’ commodity Cable was— and not to think about how this _obviously_ meant they didn’t want _him_ on the team. Otherwise, they would have already asked.  
Giving a sigh which raised then lowered the boots resting on his tum-tum, Wade conceded that he’d kinda blown his shot _days_ ago when he’d been asked to help with the whole ‘Fire Fist’ situation and got the both of them sent to mutant super max prison instead. 

“Hank —Dr. Hank?— is still interested in working with you to help you understand your mutation,” Cable said, matter of factly. 

“Is he a stick in the mud?” Wade asked, decidedly _not_ interested if the answer was anywhere near ‘yes’. 

“He’s hairy, blue, and looks like he could rip a gorilla’s arm off.”

“Well, with _that_ kind of endorsement, how could I deny him the pleasure?”

“I’ll let him know. He’ll probably have an opening tomorrow afternoon.”

“Hm,” Wade hummed, letting the guy currently ‘object’ifying him know he’d heard. Then moving right on to the next topic of interest.  
“Say, you interested in turning in early? All this ‘relieving stress’ stuff is _exhausting_.”

Cable scoffed before setting his feet on the floor and standing from his seat. “That’s ‘cause you were doing it wrong.”

“No, _you_ were doing it wrong,” Wade insisted, nodding in appreciation of the hand up. 

“I haven’t done _any_ of that- have you _seen_ me doing that? How could you possibly know-“

“Fine, you were doing it wrong _before_ you found out your bestie ex-wife and your joint-custody daughter are one hundred percent not roasted again,” Wade said. A little voice somewhere in the back of his head yelling at him that that probably wasn’t **any** where near the ‘sensitive’ mark.  
Sounded uncannily like Domino. Hm. 

“... You wanna know what else we do in the future for relieving stress?” It was more the facial expression than the actual words that had Wade grinning like a man possessed. 

“Call me an Eager Beaver ‘cause the answer is ‘hell yes!’”

“Good. ‘Cause I’ve got a kink between my shoulders that’s been killing me since the adrenaline wore off after the-“

“Climactic battle between arguably good, decidedly grey, and pedophilic evil back at the orphanage?” Wade supplied. 

“Yeah. Then.”

“Oh, no worries, mi marido: I can’t _wait_ to get my hands **all** over you. Ooh, got any Future Massage Oils in that ‘utility bag’ of yours?” 

“Maybe,” the only answer Wade got out of his ‘roommate’ until they’d gotten back to their quarters and Cable let him take a peek for himself in the main pocket of his glorified fanny pack. 

Bingo: _warming_ massage oil. 

Ha, Wade thought as he watched the muscled up time traveler shrug out of his shirt, in about five minutes, things were going to get _extremely_ ‘warmed’. 

Unless of course, The Curse Of X-Manor struck yet again. Which was seeming more and more likely With every millisecond Cable spent **not** tearing Wade’s clothes off of him with just his teeth. 

Oh well, if Cable —more like the huge prude of a mansion itself— wanted them to wait until _after_ tying the knot to... ‘make things official’, Wade just hoped there was a mutant Parson Brown hiding out somewhere in the rose garden. ‘Cause he was **ready** to skip straight past those ‘I do’s’ and be _taken_ by his blushing bridegroom on their mutant-church sanctioned honeymoon. 

After all: even mutants deserved the right to marry who their hearts —and loins— desired.  
Even if they were from the future and made at least one quarter of some kind of indestructible metal.  
And were laying down on their shared bed with a groan and a promise that he’d ‘get _him_ ’ next. 

Yowza. Wade had it **bad**.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this could go one of two ways: either the pair somehow break the mansion’s long standing curse, or they fall asleep in each other’s massage oily embraces still wearing a light ‘PG’ amount of clothing.  
> Either way, Wade’s okay with his cyborg husband’s choices. Now he’s just wondering what the audience thinks. ;D


	8. Folsom Prison Blues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So remember how Cable said the X-Peeps want him on their team? Yeah. How’s Wade gonna take it when that gets between him and his Honey Bunches Of Oats’... whole body?  
> Hopefully he doesn’t have to spend the whole time alone!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I don’t think Ondori_naramaki, the spectacular beta on this Fic, can take much more of this. Sprinkling the story with all those grammar mistakes and the like? It’s just too much fun for the darling! ;D

The next morning, before Wade had even had a chance to scootch the short distance between them in their ‘couple’s suite’ bed and suggest to a slumbering Cable that they _finally_ get around to something a little more spicy than those lovely erotic massages they’d somehow slipped past the Curse Of The Sexless Manor and gone to bed with, the cyborg jumped out of said bed and rushed for their room door. Nearly giving Wade a heart attack. 

“They want me on a mission,” he explained before Wade could run after him. 

“This early?”

“There’re kids lives at stake,” Cable said, one hand on the doorknob and a look of regret on his face. Maybe a hint of ‘lost opportunity’ in the drawn scrunch of his eyebrows. 

“Well, if it’s _kids_ , what’re you waiting for? Go get ‘em, tiger.”

With a non-angry huff, Cable yanked the door open and dashed into the hall beyond and out of Wade’s life for good.  
Or, that’s how it _felt_ anyway. 

 

~

 

“Hi, Wade!” Came the unmistakable, ringing, adorable as _hell_ , voice of the one and only-

“Hi, Yukio,” Wade said. Not quite able to infuse the greeting with the earnest energy he _wanted_ to.  
Though, honestly, he hadn’t even bothered pulling himself out of bed and it was probably-

“You missed breakfast.” Yep. 

“Yeah, sorry. I didn’t know where it was or... anything,” Wade said. Knowing it was one of the worst excuses possible. Considering you just follow the smell of food and you’d be there. 

With a downturned mouth, the pink and blue haired —at the moment— sweetheart walked over to the bed of lost opportunities and plopped down on it in a cross legged, yoga looking sit.  
“I know how you feel, Wade. I miss Nega when she’s needed on a mission and I’m not.” She paused to grab one of Wade’s hands and interlace their fingers in _the_ most adorable show of support Wade had ever felt _almost_ help.  
“She always gives me a look of regret before she goes. Then one of relief when she gets back. That’s how I know she’s just as sad to leave me behind.”

Wade wiped his free hand across his eyes, pretending they _weren’t_ watering. “You two sound great together. I never thought Sonic The Hedgehog had it in her.”

“Oh, she’s wonderful!” Yukio enthused, putting her hands to her chest in pride. Wade wondering whether she remembered she had one of his in a death grip as she did. Just glad he was too depressed to feel super weird about the completely innocent, unconscious gesture.  
“She’s strong and sweet and kind and thoughtful and she makes a **mean** macaroni! Oh, and she _always_ makes me smile!”

“Huh. She makes me smile too.” The look Yukio sent him at the teasing tone was endearing; full of fondness and understanding. If a little reproach. 

“She’s _also_ protective and a worry wart. So I asked her to keep your boyfriend safe while they’re out on this mission together. Mostly so she’d have something to focus on.” Wade almost flinched when she looked down at his widening eyes. Impressed by her teenaged self’s cunning. “You’re welcome.”

“Aw, Yukio, it sounds like _you’re_ the thoughtful one in this equation,” Wade said, lifting his extra hand to give her a quick ‘boop’ on the tip of her cute as a button nose. 

“Heehee!” The fashion forward martial artist laughed, scrunching her nose and scooting to the edge of the bed.  
“Now come on sleepy head; you need a snack and then Dr. McCoy would love to see you in his office. And I have class in 10, so we better get a move on,” she said, all eagerness as she forced Wade’s lazy ass out of bed behind her. Making very good use of the finger-lock she had on him when he almost didn’t help. 

“Dr. McCoy? Like from Star Trek? He gonna beam me up?” Wade asked as his feet hit hardwood floor and he was being gently _escorted_ out the room and down the hall. 

“Silly! Dr. McCoy, also known as Mr. Hank, and when he’s out on a mission most call him-“

“Beast? That’s right! Cable mentioned the big, blue Bigfoot wanted to run horrible, horrifying tests on me in his genetics lab! Lead the way, Karate Kid!”

“Haha, I don’t practice Karate!” The bouncing hair leading Wade to his certain doom laughed in a sweet, ringing voice. 

 

~

 

“Thank you for agreeing to see me today, Mr.-“

“I prefer Wade!” Said the guy who was practically vibrating with hero worship as he stared wide eyed up at the kind expression on the furry blue face of the one and only, Beast. 

“Alright then, Wade it is. Now, Wade, would you mind-“

“Taking my pants off? I haven’t done that in front of another breathing creature in quite some time. You may need to give me a minute, Doc.”

The guy in the tailored suit and lab coat gave Wade a perplexed look before chuckling. A jolly, deep, booming sound.  
“That’s perfectly alright; no need for all that. In fact, I was going to ask if you wouldn’t mind sitting on this stool by the desk? Get you at a better height for me; back isn’t what it used to be,” Dr. Hank McCoy said in friendly explanation. 

“Oh,” said Wade, almost just the teeny tiniest bit disappointed. “‘Cause you’re so tall I look like a little ant from way up there, right?” He asked, hopping up to set his resigned-to-spending-the-remainder-of-his-days-as-a-test-subject ass on the taller than average, sturdier than made sense, stool. 

Again came the chuckle and Wade found himself grinning just the smallest bit.  
“Something like that, yes. Thank you,” said the doc soon as Wade stopped readjusting his cheeks into the provided, one size fits all dents in the tough seat.  
“I was thinking we might start by observing the regeneration process under a very simple stimuli. Which hand would you prefer for-“

“Well right hand’s closer, so break away, Doc.” 

“I beg your pardon?” The blue Wuv Luv with the PHD asked in concern when Wade held up the hand and looked away with scrunched eyes. 

“I’m not picky. Whichever you want; whatever _number_ you want.” 

“Uh,” stalled the doctor as he opened and rustled around in a little desk drawer. “I require only _one_ finger for the-“

“Intimidated by having a _willing_ subject for a change? Well, that’s okay, ‘cause I’ll do it _for_ you,” Wade challenged. A half moment before reaching up with his other hand and breaking his right, middle finger with a disturbing snap. Which he followed with quick, restrained breaths and a high, this hurts me more than it hurts you, whine. 

“Oh my,” the only thing the real Beast in the room could muster as he bent forward and watched with wide, squinted eyes as his subject’s shattered phalange _un_ broke itself.  
“That _is_ something. Uh, thank you for the demonstration, though I had been referring to a needle prick. So that we could observe the stick site heal and for a couple drop blood sample,” the guy who’d just _let_ Wade brake one of his own fingers said, pulling out a pair of sterile gloves and a little blood sampling kit. 

“Oh. I guess that makes more sense,” Wade pouted as the dr. chuckled and put on the size extra- _extra_ large nitrile gloves. 

 

~

 

“Hi, Wade!”

“Hi, Yukio!”

“How did your visit go? I see you got your lollipop!” Enthused the X-school’s happiest student. 

“Yeah, cherry favored too,” Wade said as he stopped pretending to deep throat the tasty treat. On account of there being a youngster present.  
“And, eh, can’t complain. Spent most of the time extolling the awesomeness of my healing powers and the virtues of a balanced diet, ‘ _especially_ for someone who’s constantly replacing their muscle tissues’. Though he _did_ leave a scalpel within reach. Which I ended up stabbing myself with.”

“Oh, no! You look okay though,” Yukio said as the two of them started off toward that wing’s mess hall type dining room. For dinner. “What happened?”

“It was just so _shiny_ , and when I asked about it, Ol’ Beastie Boy mentioned it had one of the sharpest edges known to the medical world. He _knew_ I couldn’t resist!”

“Well, I’m glad you’re alright! Right?” The sweet as pie chain wielder asked, with an adorable head tilt. 

“Yeah, I’m fine, thanks. But I took a few more of these babies while he wasn’t looking, as a formal apology for making me his personal lab experiment,” Wade said, pulling his shirt up far enough to expose his pant band and the ten or so, assorted flavors of sphere topped stick candies he had poking over the top. 

“Haha! That’ll show him!” Yukio said with a shake of her head. 

“Want one? Wade asked around the lollipop in his mouth. Seeing as how his hands were full of shirt at the moment. 

“Ooh, thank you,” Yukio said as she bent slightly to select her prize. “Watermelon for me!” She said as she tore the wrapper off and started in on hers. 

Wade let his shirt hem fall back down and made the lollipop ‘pop’ when he took it out of his mouth.  
“So, heard anything from Nega Pain In The-“

“Only that she misses me. And that they’re going to maintain radio silence for the remainder of the mission so there’ll be less of a trail to follow should anyone suspect the X-Men’s involvement,” Yukio said around her artificial watermelon treat. 

“Ooh, _secret_ mission! I wish _we_ had a secret mission too,” Wade whined as he finished off his candy and stuck the now useless stick in his pocket. Not seeing a trash receptacle _any_ where.

“Alright then: Our mission, should we choose to accept it, is to eat **all** of those through dinner,” the one with the most awesome hair in the building said, pointing at Wade’s shirt hem, “without anyone noticing.”

“Mission accepted! I’ll be the Q to your 007,” said the guy loaded to the gills with a rainbow of secret lollipops. 

“Just call me Bond, James Bond,” Yukio said in a very nice impression of the, slightly prepubescent sounding, master spy. 

In the end, neither of them were sure whether the mission was actually successful, but they _did_ finish all the candies, and considering the two of them ended up giggling all through dinner: Wade chalked it up as a win for the home team. After all, he hadn’t laughed like that in... kind of a while. 

Hm. Maybe he’d have to thank Yukio by going a smidge easier on her girlfriend next time he saw her.  
Nah, yellow had it comin’!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw! Wade _adores_ Yukio! Anyone else think she’s totally rad the way she forced Wade to have a good time? ‘Cause I bet Cable’s gonna think so too! Haha!


	9. The Time Traveler’s Husband

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wow. _So_ glad that Wade and Yukio both had a great time even though their arguably favorite people weren’t there with them!  
>  Thankfully though, the mission should be over aaaaannnnyyy second now!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ondori_Naramaki did it again. Outdid themselves on this one. I think it’s almost even **readable** this time!

“I’m back.” Wade heard from the open bedroom door. Said by a voice that made him jerk completely out of bed in excitement. 

“You’re back!?” 

“Uh, yeah?”

“What’d you and the X-Twerps get up to out in the big old, _dangerous_ world?” 

“Uh,” Cable said, perhaps a little overwhelmed with emotion when Wade dashed across the room and wrapped him in a hug which brought their bodies flush against each other. “We liberated some kids with mutative powers from a traveling circus while it was stopped in Zurich.”

“Okay, _give_ me a fake city name because the actual one is top secret. That’s fine. Everything’s fine,” Wade said as he snuggled even closer to the best thing he’d had in his life since...

“Wade, there’s something I need to tell you-“

“Of course, love bear, but I’m sure it can wait until we’ve reached the post coital pillow talk part of our reunion, right?” Asked the guy with the ever tightening, tentacle hold on his surly, **burly** , soon to be _ultimately_ closer, lover. 

Proving his reciprocation of Wade’s uncontrollable lust, Cable pulled out some cyborg Judo moves to hitch his octopus’s legs around his waist. Then, reminding Wade of a dedicated, silverback koala, the guy with the metal arm walked the both of them over to the bed and flopped forward right onto the covers. Squishing the air out of Wade’s lungs when the couple hundred pounds of nothing but solid muscle ended up on top.  
All of which gave Wade a beautiful sense memory flashback to the second time they’d ever met, in the back of a screaming metal death trap, entwined _just_ as they were now. A stiletto, which he still had —#Momento—, driven tenderly into his side. 

Big difference being, this time, the mouth that had tried to remove a large chunk of his larger pectoral area... _didn’t_. Prompting Wade to wonder whether the feisty fighter’s feelings for him hadn’t somehow... changed.  
Although, their heads were right next to each other. So that might have actually been the biggest difference, if Wade thought about it. 

Cable sighed a big sigh right next to Wade’s ear, causing the guy currently bottoming to shiver at the warm, _moist_ feeling it left on his listening organ.  
“I know I’ve been... distant since the ride to the mansion, in Dopinder’s ‘hate mobile’,” Cable started. Causing Wade to squeeze the guy’s entire body just a little tighter. “And I know that’s not what either of us... _really_ wanted, but,” Cable continued, sounding like he was having a hard time getting the words out. 

Then Wade realized how hard he was squeezing and loosened up the full body death-grip to something a little more conducive to _breathing_.  
They both took in a lungful, ins and outs easing back to normal before Cable went on. 

“But I couldn’t force myself on you when I knew... you were still grieving the death of your wife. Especially not when I knew... I might be able to do something about that tragedy.” 

“What?” Wade asked. Moving his head far enough to the side that he could look Cable in the face.  
“What in the name of Mahatma Fucking Gandhi are you _saying_? Are- Are you breaking up with me?” Wade asked with a worry that turned into pinpricks of water at the corner of his eyes when his living body pillow pulled himself free enough to get his hands under him and raise himself into a push-up position. 

Gazing at Wade from straight above, right in the face, Cable looked every ounce as worried as Wade felt.  
That didn’t make Wade feel any better.

“No, I’m not trying to ‘break up’ with you; I’m saying, after this, _you_ might want to ‘break up’ with **me**.”

“No I wouldn't! Wait. Why?” Wade asked, feeling even further confused, though perhaps a little, tiny bit, _ultra_ comforted, when Cable’s organic hand cupped the side of his face and the thumb smoothed gently at his cheek. 

Wordlessly, Cable lowered himself from his one armed, sexily show-offy, push-up. Fulfilling _several_ of Wade’s fantasies when he tenderly crushed his rock hard bod back down on him and nudged their noses together. A moment of indecision passing before the topper went in for a sensually slow, ‘I’m sorry’ style kiss. 

“Wow. Don’t tell me you killed Russell after all?”

“Jesus Christ,” Wade heard Cable say under his breath. Before a deep, cyborg chuckle vibrated the whole bed. That alluring thumb still brushing Wade’s face. Making his other cheek feel left out. “No. Russell’s here, along with the other kids from the orphanage, and with so many ‘talented’ teachers around,” Cable said with a scoff, “I couldn’t kill him if I _wanted_ to.”

“Then why the flowers and chocolates apology? Hm? Though,” Wade said with an eyebrow wiggle, “I _am_ liking where this is **headed**.”

“Because... Negasonic Teenage Warhead fixed my ‘time machine’,” Cable said, in a voice laced with an emotion painfully _close_ to, but definitely not quite, regret.  
“Turns out, she’s _really_ good with mechanical engineering and-“

“Wait. What’re you- _What_ -“

“We can save your wife. I spent some time figuring it out and I didn’t want to mention it until I _knew_ it would work. Now, I **know** it will.”

Wade and Cable stood from their cuddly cuddle as the room’s mood changed from ‘adorably domestic’ to ‘serious shit about to go down?’.

“How- how would that work? She’s- Ness’s been... _gone_ for **weeks**.”

“It’s easier if I _show_ you,” Cable said, with a possessive hand reaching around Wade’s hips to pull him **close**. “Body slide by two,” came the next, confusing, gruff in his muscly throat, words. 

Right before the X-manor’s, ‘committed couple’s’ bedroom disappeared in a somehow unmistakable-even-to-Wade, rippling, **tearing** away of both reality and time. 

_Fuck_ his boyfriend was hot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Wade, your boyfriend thinks _you’re_ hot too. Don’t let yourself forget it either, baby! 
> 
> Anyone looking forward to seeing Ness for the very first time? I just hope Cable’s prepared for the experience! :D


	10. Three’s Never A Crowd

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How’s Ness gonna react to seeing a _cyborg_ and her fiancé’s doppelgänger for the first time? ‘Well’ we hope!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See Ending Note for an important announcement!
> 
> Yeah, so if you like being able to actually _read_ stuff, I could probably dig up the first draft of this chapter somewhere. On the other hand, if you _like_ spelling mistakes and mangled syntax, send a big old thank you Ondori_Naramaki’s way! (Hint: They beta’d!)

“And you two popped out of **nowhere** with this crazy story about the future and me dying and some Flaming Fist kid,” the beautiful, **beautiful** voice of Wade’s first ever fiancée enthused in all of its _alive_ beauty. “And then that part where you gave me the Future Tech(tm), _invisible_ , bulletproof vest with the built in blood pack and told me to ‘go with it and act dead’? We fooled the past you _so_ hard, Wade!” Ness said, bopping her fiancé good naturedly on one bicep. 

“Yep, sure did,” Wade agreed, with just a hint less of the chortling and the elated-to-be-alive glee the woman he’d been having trouble _wanting_ to go on without... went on with.

“Oh my fuck! And now I’m here in the future! And everything’s the same, except for _this_ guy,” Ness said, pointing at the big, flesh and metal cyborg in the room. 

“Uh, yeah, remember how we mentioned, in the past, I thought you were dead for like, _ever_?” Wade asked. Getting a jubilant nod. “Well, I kinda sorta, _accidentally_ , got myself a boyfriend. Within the last week,” he added. Not wanting to cheapen his grieving period. 

Turns out, Ness didn’t mind the idea of the ‘hot as _fuck_ ’ —her words _and_ Wade’s— half metal, Terminator guy being her fiancé’s boyfriend. So long as there was a little room for her to get in on the action too. And seeing as Cable only raised an eyebrow at her insinuating, Wade was pretty sure the guy was just as **into** it as _he_ was. 

“And _damn_ , Wade, where’d you pick up this tall, insanely ripped drink of water?” She asked while giving the stranger one of the hottest, unabashed, head to toe eye fucks Wade’d ever had the pleasure of witnessing. 

“Uh, _long_ story short: I stopped him from killing a toddler and he stopped me from killing myself.”

Ness looked between the two of them, face not sure whether it should be shocked or **fucking** shocked. 

“Russell’s, like, thirteen. And he’s _fine_ ,” insisted the cyborg. 

“Yeah, semantics. You wouldn’t have stopped even if he _was_ seven,” Wade accused while slipping an arm over Ness’s shoulders. 

“Wade, a seven year old hasn’t been a ‘toddler’ for, like, four years,” Ness said, a crinkle to her nose which Wade couldn’t help but kiss. “You’re gonna need to step up your game if we’re putting a bun in this oven.”

Wade couldn’t hold in a little squeal. “We’re still doing that?!”

“Of course, pendejo. Dying’s not stopping me from living out our dreams!”

“Of cooking bread?” Cable interjected, surprising Wade with just how sexily non-threatening he could be when he put his mind to it. 

“Naw, putting a baby in my belly. So that we have a kid,” Ness explained with a perplexed grin. “I suppose you could help with that, in some capacity. But the kid’s gotta come from my snuggly bear here, so Wade’s doing the heavy lifting.”

“You don’t look that heavy,” Cable said in his adorable ‘I don’t understand ancient slang talk’ way. 

“Thank you,” Ness said with a pleased head tilt. “But I’ll need to put on some weight if I’m gonna protect this baby from our fucked up life. I’m thinking... basic pistol use and safety lessons from you,” she said, surprising Wade with a loving nose snuggle, “and ‘scaring the shit out of people with only your face’ lessons from Mr. The Future Sucks over here.”

“An intimidating facade _is_ one of the most effective tools a person has at their disposal,” Cable reasoned. 

“Yeah, of course; we’ll get you a piece and I’ll take you out where I target practice,” Wade agreed. 

“Good, it’s a date then,” Ness nodded with a titillated expression. “Then I’m thinking we round it out with some strength training and just a hint of hand to hand.”

“Ooh, trust me on this one, Cable here is a _master_ at the erotic arts of hand to ass combat,” Wade said. Giving Cable his own version of a quick little eye fuck. Which the cyborg raised an eyebrow at.  
**So** into it. 

“You already got to second base with Elvis here?” Ness asked, looking just a little put off. 

Wade wasn’t sure what that expression meant, so he dove right into an explanation. “It was the first time we met and I only took him up on the offer because I thought you were gonna be dead forever and that I was never gonna die. Because of my stupid ‘regeneration’ super power.”

“No, baby,” Ness said, reaching out to cup the side of Wade’s face, “I’m _glad_ you found somebody **good** when you thought I was gone forever.” The fact that she said this while maintaining **heavy** , erotic eye contact made Wade’s brain believe every word _and_ turned his legs to jelly.  
“Now, how’s Mr. Tall And Brooding gonna help us with the whole ‘I’m still not pregnant’ problem?” Ness asked. Obviously enjoying the way the new guy just kept on watching her and her hubby-to-be snuggle, all intimate like. 

Wade’s mind pulled a quick blue screen of death as **the** most perfect idea hit him square in the brain pan.  
After a quick reboot, he looked between the _two_ people he loved most in the world, and said, “Anybody know how to remotely operate a camera?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... _Wade’d_ say that went pretty well. How ‘bout y’all?
> 
> Also: Big surprise folks! I’ve been working up a sequel to this story! Ah! It’s basically this story all over again, only this time it’s from Cable’s perspective! So it’s a completely different story. Heh hehe.  
>  That one will be rolling out soon as this one’s complete. Oh yeah, this one has one more chapter in it, so that isn’t all that far off! ;D


	11. Living The Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter, baby! Woohoo!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The great and powerful Ondori_naramaki has agreed to beta for the sequel as well. So I hope everyone’s looking forward to that as much as they are! ;D  
>  Thanks for the awesome work on this Fic Ondo!

“Freeze, asshole!”

Both figures looked up at the sudden, blinding beam of a high powered flashlight. One suddenly blinded figure, pinned flush against a wall and whimpering; the other, doing the pinning. One hand on the victim’s unbuckled belt, frozen where it’d already started work on pulling the pants down. 

Nearby, a carton of milk burbled its last ounces out onto the grimy, cold concrete of the graffiti lined alley. Completely forgotten. 

“Back away from the law abiding milk drinker, **now**!” The blue uniformed shadow wielding both the flashlight and a handgun ordered. 

“Uh-huh, yeah, I don’t think so,” said the thug as he pulled the poor, quavering victim from the mold covered wall. Just to shove him back against it. Eliciting a terrified mewl. 

“Hey, fucker, I’m not kidding; this thing’s loaded, and I was top of my class in marksmanship,” warned the actually not that tall copper with a twitch of her gat. 

“What, you got a problem with this?” Said the evil mass of bulging muscles, yanking the guy with his pants only not sliding off his ass by the grace of God into a brutal headlock. Wicked knife glinting in the stark torchlight where he held it to the throat of the guy quivering in his other arm.  
“You wanna slink back the way you came and let us have a short and sweet together, or your ‘Copliness’ want me to ‘back away slowly’,” said with the knife pushing just hard enough against a bare sliver of neck to draw out a noise of pain, “and drag him off someplace a little more _private_. Maybe for an extended stay?”

“I said _freeze_ , f-“

“You might wanna rethink that next word, if you catch my meaning.” Said as the brutish arm around the thinner guy’s wind tube tightened obviously.  
“What happens next is lady’s choice, and you better make up your mind quick, or I might just get bored: slit this cretan’s throat right here and let you clean up the mess.”

When a few seconds passed with no decision forthcoming, the grip on the knife shifted. “Alright, suit yourself, copp-“

“Or! Or,” the beat cop with the ponytail started. “ _Or_ , we could share?” She suggested, lowering her piece a hair and a half. 

The one holding the proverbial cards scoffed. 

“What, haven’t you heard of ‘dirty’ cops? Or police brutality?” The woman in blue asked, lowering her weapon another few inches. Flashlight staying just were it was. 

“ _Really_? **You** get yourself a nice, at gun point, Good Samaritan ‘donation’ every once in a while? In an alley?”

“Your hard-on is my wide-on, bucko,” she assured. Causing the guy with very little air reaching his brain and a knife to his throat to sob.  
The other two ignored the histrionics out of hand. 

“...You bring any rubbers to this rodeo?”

“Never leave home without them.” Said as the muzzle of the copper’s pistol dropped the last half foot. Mirrored in the way the knife fell some inches from the immediate threat of civilian death. 

“Heh. You’re alright by me then, Calamity Ja-“

The percussive sound of a handgun going off shocked all parties. Until the beleaguered, convenience store patron who’d decided to cut through this alley on his way home from a late night milk run nearly fell over backwards. The suddenly lax arm hooked around his neck pulling as the thug went down with a satisfying **thud**. 

The copper approached, gun held to the side and just as ready in case it was still needed.  
“You alright?” She directed at the guy who _didn’t_ have a hole right between his eyes. And also wasn’t laying on the disgusting floor of an alley that hadn’t seen a street sweeper in decades.  
And didn’t have a shining, Winter Soldier style metal arm. 

“Aside from the _years_ of nightmares I can already feel gearing themselves up: Yeah, I’m fine. How-how can I ever repay you for shooting that guy in the head?” 

“You can plant your seed in my fertile soil _right **now**_ ,” said the copper. Before shoving the would be victim against the alley wall, right where he’d been when she’d found him. Only, this time, he was whimpering for a whole _different_ reason. 

 

~

 

“See, Cher? This is when you were conceived,” Ness said with every ounce of excitement a parent used when talking to their exceedingly young child. 

“Um, yeah, maybe this next part can wait until she’s older,” Wade suggested, muting the tv as some **very** adult sounds began coming out the speakers. 

“Or _never_ , actually. Pretty sure that’s the kind of family home movie that scars a kid for life,” Cable spoke up from where he was looking very satisfied with the quality of his beer. And their choice of post dinner ‘entertainment’. 

“Ooh, right,” Ness started. “We didn’t really think this through, huh?”

“Nope. There was absolutely _no_ thinking on my part. I leave the thinking up to you three,” Wade said with a hand indicating the people of assorted ages all draped with him across the medium sized, overstuffed sofa. 

“Probably not a bad idea,” Cable said as he tipped up his refreshment and swallowed the last drops. 

“ _Great_ idea, actually,” Ness agreed. 

Cher made an adorable burping noise which everyone took to signify ascent. And a thank you for the meal she’d just eaten. From her mommy’s supple, larger than usual mammaries. Right after she’d woken from her super cute baby nap and before they’d popped in the movie. Or ‘pulled it up’ using Cable’s cyborg _mind powers_.  
Wade hadn’t been paying attention to that part. What with Cher cooing that _adorable_ way she did after getting herself a satisfying bellyful. 

“Yep. That tears it: I’m never thinking again. Means I’m screwed if any _one_ of you disappears to an alternate dimension, or goes off to boarding school because it turns out you inherited a super awesome mutant gene or two, or-or...” Wade trailed off as he realized where that train of thought always led him.  
A place he **never** wanted to find his indestructible self again. 

“Hey,” started Cable, getting Wade’s attention with a hand to his drooping shoulder. “What’d you _just_ say about never thinking again?”

“He’s right, you know,” Ness agreed as she bounced Cher in her arms, almost as if hefting her to check her weight, then passed her over to the guy in the room who’d once had to live with the crushing weight of _her_ death for **weeks** and who, it turned out, _still_ wasn’t completely over it. 

Wade noticed Ness’s face soften as she watched him cradle their baby in practiced, I’m-an-expert-at-handling-weapons-so-babies-shouldn’t-be-so-hard hands. 

“You know we’re not going anywhere, right?” His _wife_ —it was still hard to believe— started. “I mean, _neither_ of us would leave you alone with that baby. Not until she’s legitimately old enough to care for herself and you’re basically her glorified butler,” Ness lovingly assured. Punctuating the promise by resting her head on his shoulder and taking a sniff of his natural, _pleasing_ musk. 

“You’re kinda stuck with us. Besides, I’ve got a ‘time machine’. Pretty hard to beat _that_ , right?” His _husband_ —just as hard to believe— asked. Surprising Wade with a peck on the lips when he turned to look him in the face. 

“Say? Can we go to jail for this?” Ness asked, pointing to Wade’s _two_ , very obviously different, wedding bands. “Isn’t this considered some form of polygamy? Is that still illegal?” She asked, bringing up a concern that she’d likely never thought about before. 

“Oh, these?” Wade asked, flexing the fingers of his ‘sorry, taken’ hand. 

“There’re _laws_ against that?!” Cable disbelieved in a disbelieving voice. 

“No, no, no. No laws against what we three, enthusiastically _consenting_ adults did,” Wade reassured with a hand on Cable’s unnecessarily worried knee. “After all: Ness and Wade are married, and Cable and _Deadpool_ are the lucky ducks who got to tie the knot in Vegas after the officiator had three two many drinks and agreed that costumes and only one name each _did_ , indeed, a wedding make. So long as we had rings.”

“That _did_ seem odd. A woman of the church drinking to dissolution before going on shift? And she didn’t even ask to see identification or-“

“Or my face, but that’s probably a _good_ thing right there. She might’a passed out-“

“ _Sooner_.”

“-if she did.”

“Oh my God! I **love** it when you two get all ‘old married couple’ on each other! You _do_ realize you were finishing each other’s sentences, right?” Ness cackled from where she’d leaned away from Wade’s side enough that she could really take in the love. 

“Uh, we do it on purpose?” Wade suggested. 

“I have a psychic bond with all three of you.” The cyborg admitted in as deadpan a voice as ever. Causing the other three quarters of the family to gawp at him, none sure whether he was telling a lie, or a really, _really_ cool truth.  
“So... we’re always connected. Though, not intrusively,” Cable tacked on, sounding like he was worried he’d broken the humans from the past with his futuristic, potentially super powered, admission.

“Wow. I _thought_ I could feel you inside me even when we’re apart,” Wade said in a tender tone. Causing everyone —including Cher— to snort in the wake of the broken ‘what did he just say about our minds?’ tension. 

“We’re a bunch of fuck-ups, aren’t we?” Ness offered to the room at large. Question ending in a hearty laugh. 

“Oh, I don’t know,” Cable started, sounding thoughtful. “We made a pretty good porno.”

At that, the family looked up to where their ‘home movie’ was still rolling silently in the background, and promptly lost their shit at the image of a zombified cyborg pulling himself off the unsanitary alley floor and shambling over to join the cop-on-civilian fun. 

The laughter woke the neighbors. The _across the street_ neighbors.  
And Wade realized that he’d never been happier. Even when the across the street neighbors threatened to call the cops, but settled for throwing rotten eggs at their window. 

Yeah. This was the life. And there was no way Wade wasn’t staying alive for the entire ride. Not when he had so much to **_live_** for. Not when he had _three_ beautiful people to cuddle and care for and cherish and support.  
After all, in the end: wasn’t that what the ‘good life’ was all about?

“From the top?” Wade asked, gesturing with his baby in his arms toward the TV set. 

“Oh, _hell_ yes,” said Ness, with a little fist pump. “We should get oscars for this shit!”

“Well, I’m grabbing another beer, _then_ I can watch myself die again,” said Cable as he schlepped himself off the couch and in the direction of the fridge. 

“Babe, you were _great_ ,” Wade assured. “Those reactions weren’t for the camera; I was legitimately terrified something _more_ forceful was gonna go down.”

“It _did_.” Pointed out the cyborg as he retook his seat, cold beer in hand. 

“Oh, press play already you beautiful remote control!” Demanded Ness. Sounding like this was only a warmup and she was eager to get to the ‘main course’. 

“You heard the copper,” Wade said to the lowlife sitting at his other side. 

“Wouldn’t wanna get shot between the eyes again,” Cable grumbled. A good natured sound which got the whole couch laughing again. 

If it earned them a few more eggs to the window, so be it. Wade wasn’t gonna curb a single minute of his nor any other member of his family’s happiness.  
After all: life was sacred. And they had a porno to watch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright folks, just because the ride has come to a full and complete stop does not mean it’s time to disembark! A sequel is coming your way and not to give anything away, but it’s gonna be super boring. Yeah. Basically just this story a _second_ time, pacing switched up, but from that sleemo Cable’s perspective.  
>  Anyway, anyone interested can retighten their seatbelts and you’re more than welcome to stick around for the continuing ride. ;D  
> Hope things are going well for y’all and feel free to let me know whether you enjoyed!


End file.
